Ship of Dreams
by siriusly sirius about nothing
Summary: In April 10th 1912,on a ship called Titanic when young Harrison boards the departing ship with the upper-class passengers. Meanwhile, a drifter and artist named Edward Mason and his traveling companion Fabrizio win third-class tickets.But on April 14 1912
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter/Twilight/Titanic

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

It was a sunny day which meant the Cullen's had to be confined in their home for fear of exposing themselves to the human and bringing the Volturi upon them. Carlisle was in his private library reading the newest medical journal, Esme was cooking up a storm (the food was being donated to local soup kitchen), Edward was playing his piano, and Rosalie, Emmett, Alice and Jasper were watching the news when a reporter said something that stopped Edward in his tracks.

"Treasure hunter Brock Lovett is best known for finding Spanish gold in sunken galleons in the Caribbean. Now he is using deep submergence technology to work two and a half miles down at another famous wreck... the Titanic. He is with us live via satellite from a Russian research ship in the middle of the Atlantic... hello Brock?"

"Yes, hi, Tracy. You know, Titanic is not just A shipwreck, Titanic is THE shipwreck. It's the Mount Everest of shipwrecks."

Edward moved toward the sitting room captivated by the news report. Wondering what caught Edward attention Carlisle and Esme joined the rest of the family.

"I've planned this expedition for three years" Brock Lovett continued, "and we're out here recovering some amazing things... things that will have enormous historical and educational value."

"But it's no secret that education is not your main purpose. You're a treasure hunter. So what is the treasure you're hunting?"

"I'd rather show you than tell you, and we think we're very close to doing just that."

"Your expedition is at the center of a storm of controversy over salvage rights and even ethics. Many are calling you a grave robber."

"Nobody called the recovery of the artifacts from King Tut's tomb grave robbing. I have museum-trained experts here, making sure this stuff is preserved and catalogued properly. Look at this drawing, which was found today... "

The video camera pans off Brock to the drawing, in a tray of water. The image of a man with slightly heart shaped necklace fills the frame. The man was a definite beauty from his messy black hair to his feminine/masculine figure. What really grab your attention were his eyes; you couldn't tell what color they were but the love shinning out of them were breathtaking.

"...a piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years... and my team are able to preserve it intact. Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity, when we can see it and enjoy it now...?"

"Well I'll be damned" breathed Edward. "I can't believe it….. after all these years"

"What is Edward" asked Esme in concern. Everyone was now looking at Edward.

"It's Harrison…he is….was my everything"

"Why don't you sit down and start from the beginning" It was such a human thing to do but he complies anyway still dazed at what he saw. He looks at the rest of his family. They never knew that he was on the titanic; he omits that part whenever he had to tell his story to others. He never knew why, maybe deep down he wanted to keep Harrison to himself but looking at his family now he knew it was time.

"It's been so long since I've been on Titanic and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets have never been slept in. Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams. And it was. It really was."

**A/N: This is my first fanfiction so go easy on me people. Anything you recognized does not belong to me, just the idea is mine. Let me know what you guys think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't even own a library card so no I don't own this**

**Chapter 1:**

Southampton, England, April 10, 1912. It is almost noon on ailing day. A crowd of hundreds blackens the pier next to Titanic like ants. A gorgeous burgundy RENAULT TOURING CAR swings in the air, hanging from a loading crane. It is lowered toward onto the ship.

On the pier horse drawn vehicles, motorcars and Lorries move slowly through the dense throng. The atmosphere is one of excitement and general giddiness. People embrace in tearful farewells, or wave and shout bon voyage wishes to friends and relatives on the decks above.

A white Renault, leading a silver-gray Daimler-Benz, pushes through the crowd leaving a wake in the press of people. Around the handsome cars people are streaming to board the ship, jostling with hustling seamen and stokers, porters, and barking White Star Line officials.

The Renault stops and the liveried driver scurries to open the door for a man dressed in a stunning dark blue suit. He looks to be about 16 years old and beautiful, regal of bearing, with piercing green eyes. He looks up at the ship, taking it in with cool appraisal.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania."

A personal valet opens the door on the other side of the car for a woman also of 16 years. She is beautiful with her flaming red hair and porcelain skin making her look like a doll. She had an air of arrogance and rich beyond meaning feel to her.

She turns to the younger man." You can be blasé about some things, Harrison, but not about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauretania, and far more luxurious. It has squash courts, a Parisian cafe... even Turkish baths."

She turns to the man, who descends from the touring car behind her. The man looks like an older version of his son.

"Your son has high taste, James." She points to a puddle at his feet. "Mind your step."

James turns his gaze to the leviathan ship. "So this is the ship they say is unsinkable."

The girl laughed and answered. "It is unsinkable. God himself couldn't sink this ship." She speaks with the pride of a host providing a special experience.

This entire entourage of rich Americans is impeccably turned out, a quintessential example of the Edwardian upper class, complete with servants. The girl's valet seemingly out of nowhere behind her; he is a tall and impassive, dour as an undertaker. Behind him emerge two maids, personal servants to Harrison and James.

A White Star Line Porter scurries toward them, harried by last minute loading.

"Miss, you'll have to check your baggage through the main terminal, round that way-"

The girl nonchalantly hands the man a fiver. The porter's eyes dilate. Five pounds was a monster tip in those days.

"I put my faith in you, good sir." She nods curtly, indicating her valet. "See my man."

"Yes, Miss. My pleasure, Miss."

She never tires of the effect of money on the unwashed masses.

The valet grabs the White Star Line employee. "These trunks here, and 12 more in the Daimler. We'll have all this lot up in the rooms."

The White Star man looks stricken when he sees the enormous pile of steamer trunks and suitcases loading down the second car, including wooden crates and steel safe. He whistles frantically for some cargo-handlers nearby who come running.

She breezes on, leaving the minions to scramble and quickly checks her pocket watch.

"We'd better hurry. This way, gentlemen."

She indicates the way toward the first class gangway. They move into the crowd. Harrison's maid Trudy, hustles behind them, laden with bags of her master's most recent purchases... things too delicate for the baggage handlers.

She leads, weaving between vehicles and handcarts, hurrying passengers (mostly second class and steerage) and well-wishers. Most of the first class passengers are avoiding the smelly press of the dockside crowd by using an elevated boarding bridge, twenty feet above.

They pass a line of steerage passengers in their coarse wool and tweeds, queued up inside movable barriers like cattle in a chute. A health officer examines their heads one by one, checking scalp and eyelashes for lice.

The girl points to those on the health inspection line. "Steerage swine. Apparently missed their annual bath."

James looks at the girl. "Honestly, Ginvera, if you weren't forever booking everything at the last instant, we could have gone through the terminal instead of running along the dock like some squalid immigrant family."

She smiles sweetly at James. "All part of my charm. At any rate, it was my darling fiancée's beauty rituals which made us late."

Harrison stares accusingly at Ginvera. "You told me to change."

"I couldn't let you wear black on sailing day, sweet pea. It's bad luck."

He turns his gaze to Titanic. "I felt like black."

She guides them out of the path of a horse-drawn wagon loaded down with two tons of OXFORD MARMALADE, in wooden cases, for Titanic's Victualing Department.

"Here I've pulled every string I could to book us on the grandest ship in history, in her most luxurious suites... and you act as if you're going to your execution."

Harrison looks up as the hull of Titanic looms over them...a great iron wall, Bible black and severs. Ginvera motions him forward, and she enters the gangway to the D Deck doors with a sense of overwhelming dread. Ginvera grabs onto Harrison arm possessively. He escorts her up the gangway and the black hull of Titanic swallows them.

A screaming blast from the mighty triple steam horns on Titanic's funnels, bellowing their departure warning.

A view of Titanic can be seen from several blocks away, towering above the terminal buildings like the skyline of a city. The steamer's whistle echoes across Southampton. A few blocks away show a smoky pub. It is crowded with dockworkers and ship's crew. Inside the pub, a poker game is in progress. Four men, in working class clothes, playing a very serious hand.

Edward Mason and Fabrizio De Rossi, both about 17, exchange a glance as the other two players argue in Swedish. Edward is American, a lanky drifter with his hair a little long for the standards of the times. He is also unshaven, and his clothes are rumpled from sleeping in them. He is an artist, and has adopted the bohemian style of art scene in Paris. He is also very self-possessed and sure-footed for 17, having lived on his own since he was 15.

The other two men continue their sullen argument, in Swedish.

"_You stupid fish head. I can't believe you bet our tickets."_

"_You lost our money. I'm just trying to get it back. Now shut up and take a card."_

Edward turns to the older of the two. "Hit me again, Sven." He takes the card and slips it into his hand his eyes betraying nothing.

Fabrizio licks his lips nervously as he refuses a card.

In the middle of the table bills and coins from different countries. This has been going on for a while. Sitting on top of the money are two 3rd class tickets for RMS Titanic.

The Titanic's whistle blows again its final warning.

Edward looks at the other players. "The moment of truth boys. Somebody's life's about to change."

Fabrizio puts his cards down. So do the Swedes. Edward holds his close.

"Let's see... Fabrizio's got niente. Olaf, you've got squat. Sven, uh oh... two pair... mmm. ( He turns to his friend) Sorry Fabrizio.

"What sorry? What you got? You lose my money? Ma va fa'n culo testa di cazzo-"

"Sorry, you're not gonna see your mama again for a long time..."

He slaps a full house down on the table.

Edward turns to him grinning. "'Cause you're goin' to America! Full house boys!"

Fabrizio jumps up joy. " Porca Madonna! YEEAAAAA!"

The table explodes into shouting in several languages. Edward rakes in the money and the tickets.

He turns to the Swedes. "Sorry boys. Three of a kind and a pair. I'm high and you're dry and... (he turns to Fabrizio) ... we're going to—"

Fabrizio and Edward both scream. " L'AMERICA!"

Olaf balls up one huge farmer's fist. He swings round and punches Sven, who flops backward onto the floor and sits there, looking depressed. Olaf forgets about Edward and Fabrizio, who are dancing around, and goes into a rapid harangue of his stupid cousin.

Edward kisses the tickets, then jumps on Fabrizio's back and rides him around the pub. It's like they won the lottery.

Edward shots in joy. "Goin' home... to the land o' the free and the home of the real hot-dogs! On the TITANIC! We're ridin' in high style now! We're practically goddamned royalty, ragazzo mio!

"You see? Is my destinio! Like I told you. I go to l'America! To be a millionaire!" Fabrizio turns to the pubkeeper. "Capito? I go to America!"

The pub keeper laughs. " No, mate. Titanic go to America. In five minutes." He points to the clock indicating the time.

"Shit!" Edward cursed grabbing their stuff. "Come on, Fabri! Come on!" He turns to face all those in the pub. "It's been grand."

They run for the door.

The pub keeper laughs as he continues on cleaning the glasses. "'Course I'm sure if they knew it was you lot comin', they'd be pleased to wait!"

$%#%#$%$&$line break%*%*^(^^(

Edward and Fabrizio, carrying everything they own in the world in the kit bags on their shoulders, sprint toward the pier. They tear through milling crowds next to the terminal. Shouts go up behind them as they jostle slow-moving gentlemen. They dodge piles of luggage, and weave through groups of people. They burst out onto the pier and Edward comes to a dead stop... staring at the cast wall of the ship's hull, towering seven stories above the wharf and over an eighth of a mile long. The Titanic is monstrous.

Fabrizio runs back and grabs Edward, and they sprint toward the third class gangway aft, at E deck. They reach the bottom of the ramp just as sixth Officer Moody detaches it at the top. It starts to swing down from the gangway doors.

"Wait!" Edward yells. "We're passengers!" Flushed and panting, he waves the tickets.

Moody looks at them. "Have you been through the inspection queue?"

Edward flashes a winning smile at the officer. " Of course! Anyway, we don't have lice, we're Americans. Both of us."

"Right, come aboard." He says testily.

Moody has Quarter Master Rowe reattach the gangway. Edward and Fabrizio come aboard. Moody glances at the tickets, then passes Edward and Fabrizio through to Rowe. Rowe looks at the names on the tickets to enter them in the passenger list.

"Gundersen. And..." He reads Fabrizio's ticket. "Gundersen."

He hands the tickets back, eyeing Fabrizio's Mediterranean looks suspiciously.

Edward grabs Fabrizio's arm pulling him away. "Come on, Sven."

They both whoop with victory as they run down the white-painted corridor grinning from ear to ear.

"We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the world!"

The mooring lines, as big around as a man's arm, are dropped into the water. A cheer goes up on the pier as seven tug boats pull the Titanic away from the quay.

Edward and Fabrizio burst through a door onto the aft well deck; they run across the deck and up the steel stairs to the poop deck. They get to the rail and Edward starts to yell and wave to the crowd on the dock.

"You know somebody?" Fabrizio asks.

"Of course not. That's not the point." He turns back to the crowd. "Goodbye! Goodbye! I'll miss you!"

Grinning, Fabrizio joins in, adding his voice to the swell of voices, feeling the exhilaration of the moment.

"Goodbye! I will never forget you!"

The crowd of cheering well-wishers waves heartily as a black wall of metal moves past them. Impossibly tiny figures wave back from the ship's rails. Titanic gathers speed.

Edward and Fabrizio walk down a narrow corridor with doors lining both sides like a college dorm. Total confusion as people argue over luggage in several languages, or wander in confusion in the labyrinth. They pass emigrants studying the signs over the doors, and looking up the words in phrase books.

They find their berth. It is a modest cubicle, painted enamel white, with four bunks. Exposed pipes overhead. The Gundersen's are already there.

Edward throws his kit on one open bunk, while Fabrizio takes the other.

One of the Gundersen's turns to the other. _"Where is Sven?" _

By contrast, the so-called "Millionaire Suite" is in the Empire style, and comprises two bedrooms, a bath, WC, wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. In addition there is a private 50 foot promenade deck outside. A room service waiter pours champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and hands the Bucks Fizz to Harrison. He is looking through his new paintings. There is a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works. They are all unknown paintings... lost works.

Ginvera is out on the covered deck, which has potted trees and vines on trellises, talking through the doorway to Harrison in the sitting room.

"Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money.

Harrison is looking at a cubist portrait. "You're wrong. They're fascinating. Like in a dream... there's truth without logic. What's his name again... ?" He reads the name off the canvas. "Picasso."

Ginevra comes into the sitting room. "He'll never amount to a thing, trust me. At least they were cheap." A porter wheels the private safe into the room on a hand truck.

"Put that in the wardrobe." He says, his attention still on the works of art.

Harrison enters the bedroom with the large Degas of the dancers. He sets it on the dresser, near the canopy bed. Trudy is already in there, hanging up some of his clothes.

"It smells so brand new." She says in wonderment. " Like they built it all just for us. I mean... just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, Iill be the first-"

Ginny appears in the doorway of the bedroom and looks like Harrison in what she thinks is a seductive.

"And when I crawl between the sheets tonight, I'll still be the first."

Trudy blushes at the innuendo." S'cuse me, Miss."

She edges around Ginny and makes a quick exit. She comes up behind Harrison and puts his hands on his shoulders. An act of possession, not intimacy.

"The first and only. Forever."

His expression shows how bleak a prospect this is for him, now.

EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC

Titanic stands silhouetted against a purple post-sunset sky. She is lit up like a floating palace, and her thousand portholes reflect in the calm harbor waters. The 150 foot tender Nomadic lies-to alongside, looking like a rowboat. The lights of a Cherbourg harbor complete the postcard image.

In the first class reception room from the tender are a number of prominent passengers. A broad-shoulder woman in an enormous feathered hat comes up the gangway, carrying a suitcase in each hand, a spindly porter running to catch up with her to take the bags.

"Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny. Take 'em the rest of the way if you think you can manage."

_At Cherbourg a woman came aboard named Margaret Brown, but we all called her Molly. History would call her the Unsinkable Molly Brown. Her husband had struck gold someplace out west, and she was what Harrison father called "new money". _

At 45, Molly Brown is a tough talking straight shooter who dresses in the finery of her genteel peers but will never be one of them.

_By the next afternoon we had made our final stop and we were steaming west from the coast of Ireland, with nothing out ahead of us but ocean... _

**A/N: wow what a turn out! 202 hits, 8 favs, and 18 alerts. But I only got 3 reviews . Now I know why people are always saying reviews are love cause I want to up to 10 by Thursday. I'm also hoping to update on Thursday but with 9 brothers and sisters with one computer… here's hoping. DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**

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	3. Chapter 3 When Edward met Harrison

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything!**

The ship glows with the warm creamy light of late afternoon. Edward and Fabrizio stand right at the bow gripping the curving railing. Edward leans over, looking down fifty feet to where the prow cuts the surface like a knife, sending up two glassy sheets of water. On the Bridge, Captain Smith turns from the binnacle to First Officer William Murdoch.

"Take her to sea Mister Murdoch. Let's stretch her legs.

Murdoch moves the engine telegraph lever to ALL AHEAD FULL.

In the Engine Room the telegraph clangs and moves to "All Ahead Full".

The Chief Engineer Bell yells to the other crew members. "All ahead full!"

On the catwalk Thomas Andrews, the shipbuilder, watches carefully as the engineers and greasers scramble to adjust valves. Towering above them are the twin reciprocating engines, four stories tall, their ten-foot-long connecting rods surging up and down with the turning of the massive crankshafts. The engines thunder like the footfalls of marching giants.

In the Boiler Rooms the Stokers chant a song as they hurl coal into the roaring furnaces. They are covered with sweat and coal dust, their muscles working like part of the machinery as they toil in the hellish glow. Underwater the enormous bronze screws chop through the water, hurling the steamer forward and churning up a vortex of foam that lingers for miles behind the juggernaut ship. Smoke pours from the funnels.

Captain Smith steps out of the enclosed bridge onto the wing. He stands with his hands on the rail, looking every bit the storybook picture of a Captain... a great patriarch of the sea.

Murdoch walks back to the Captain. "Twenty one knots, sir!"

"She's got a bone in her teeth now, eh, Mr. Murdoch."

Smith accepts a cup of tea from Fifth Officer Lowe. He contentedly watches the white V of water hurled outward from the bows like an expression of his own personal power. They are invulnerable, towering over the sea.

At the Bow Edward and Fabrizio lean far over, looking down. In the glassy bow-wave two dolphins appear, under the water, running fast just in front of the steel blade of the prow. They do it for the sheer joy and exultation of motion. Edward watches the dolphins and grins. They breach, jumping clear of the water and then dive back, crisscrossing in front of the bow, dancing ahead of the juggernaut. Fabrizio looks forward across the Atlantic, staring into the sun sparkles.

"I can see the Statue of Liberty already. (grinning at Edward) Very small... of course."

HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history..."Says J. Bruce Ismay, Managing Director of White Star Line. "...and our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up."

He indicates a handsome 39 year old Irish gentlemen to his right, Thomas Andrews, of Harland and Wolf Shipbuilders. Ismay seated with Ginny, Harrison, James, Molly Brown and Thomas Andrews in the Palm Court, a beautiful sunny spot enclosed by high arched windows.

Andrews disliking the attention replies. "Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is..." He slaps the table. "willed into solid reality."

"Why're ships always bein' called "she"?" Molly asks. "Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?" They all laugh. "Just another example of the men settin' the rules their way."

The waiter arrives to take orders. Harrison lights a cigarette.

"You know I don't like that, Harrison." James says frowning at his son.

"He knows." Ginny takes the cigarette from him and stubs it out.

Ginny turns to the waiter. "We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce." She turns to Harrison, after the waiter moves away. "You like lamb, don't you sweet pea?"

Molly is watching the dynamic between Ginny, Harrison and James."So, you gonna feed him too there, Ginny?" She turns to Ismay. "Hey, who came up with the name Titanic? You, Bruce?"

"Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury... and safety-"

Harrison decides to join in on the conversation. "Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay."

Andrews chokes on his breadstick, suppressing laughter.

"My God, Harrison, what's gotten into you." James says angrily.

"Excuse me." He stalks away.

James is mortified. "I do apologize."

"He's a pistol, Ginny. You sure you can handle him?" Molly says with a smile.

Ginny tenses but feigning unconcern. " Well, I may have to start minding what he reads from now on."

HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC

Edward sits on a bench in the sun. Titanic's wake spreads out behind him to the horizon. He has his knees pulled up, supporting a leather bound sketching pad, his only valuable possession. With conte crayon he draws rapidly, using sure strokes. An emigrant from Manchester named Cartmell has his 3 year old daughter Cora standing on the lower rung of the rail. She is leaned back against his beer barrel of a stomach, watching the seagulls. The sketch captures them perfectly, with a great sense of the humanity of the moment. Fabrizio looks over Edward's shoulder. He nods appreciatively.

A scowling young Irish emigrant, watches as a crewmember comes by, walking three small dogs around the deck. One of them, a Black French Bulldog, is among the ugliest creatures on the planet.

"That's typical." He says. "First class dogs come down here to take a shit."

Edward looks up from his sketch.

"That's so we know where we rank in the scheme of things."

"Like we could forget."

Edward glances across the well deck. At the aft railing of B deck promenade stands Harrison, in a Navy blue suit and tie.

Edward was unable to take his eyes off of him. They are across from each other, about 60 feet apart, with the well deck like a valley between them. He is on his promontory, he on his much lower one. He stares down at the water.

He watches him unknot his tie and take it off. He looks at it, then tosses it over the rail. It sails far down to the water and is carried away, astern. A dark spot in the vast ocean. He is riveted by him. He looks like a figure in a romantic novel, sad and isolated.

Fabrizio taps Tommy and they both look at Edward gazin at Harrison. Fabrizio and Tommy grin at each other.

Harrison turns suddenly and looks right at Edward. He is caught staring, but he doesn't look away. He does, but then looks back. Their eyes meet across the space of the well deck, across the gulf between worlds.

Edward sees a woman come up behind him and take his arm. He jerks his arm away. They argue in pantomime. He storms away, and she goes after her, disappearing along the A-deck promenade. Edward stares after him.

Tommy laughs. "Forget it, boyo. You'd as like have angels fly out o' yer arse as get next to the likes o' him."

In the First Class Dining Saloon Harrison sits, flanked by people in heated conversation. Ginny and are laughing together, while on the other side Lady Duff-Gordon is holding forth animatedly. Harrison is staring at his plate, barely listening to the inconsequential babble around him. Underneath the table in Harrison's hand, holding a tiny fork from his crab salad. He pokes the crab-fork into the skin of his arm, harder and harder until it draws blood.

Harrison walks along the corridor. A steward coming the other way greets her, and he nods with a slight smile. He is perfectly composed as he walks back to his room. He enters the room. Stands in the middle staring at his reflection in the large vanity mirror. Just stands there, then-

With a primal, anguished cry he claws at her throat, ripping off his tie and popping a few buttons, which scatters on the floor. In a frenzy he tears at himself, his clothes, his hair... then attacks the room. He flings everything off the dresser and it flies clattering against the wall. He hurls a handmirror against the vanity, cracking it.

Harrison runs along the B deck promenade. He is dishevelled, his hair flying. He is crying, his cheeks streaked with tears. But also angry, furious! Shaking with emotions he doesn't understand... hatred, self-hatred, desperation. A strolling couple watch him pass. Shocked at the emotional display in public.

HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC

Edward is kicked back on one of the benches gazing at the stars blazing gloriously overhead. Thinking artist thoughts and smoking a cigarette.

Hearing something, he turns as Harrison runs up the stairs from the well deck. They are the only two on the stern deck, except for Quarter Master Rowe, twenty feet above them on the docking bridge catwalk. He doesn't see Edward in the shadows, and runs right past him. He runs across the deserted fantail. His breath hitches in an occasional sob, which he suppresses. Harrison slams against the base of the stern flagpole and clings there, panting. He stares out at the black water.

Then he starts to climb over the railing. He is awkward climbing is clumsy. Moving methodically he turns his body and gets his shoes on the white-painted gunwale, his back to the railing, facing out toward blackness. 60 feet below her, the massive propellers are churning the Atlantic into white foam, and a ghostly wake trails off toward the horizon. Harrison standing like a figurehead in reverse. Below him are the huge letters of the name "TITANIC".

He leans out, his arms straightening... looking down hypnotized, into the vortex below him. His suit jacket and hair are lifted by the wind of the ship's movement. The only sound, above the rush of water below, is the flutter and snap of the big Union Jack right above her.

"Don't do it."

He whips his head around at the sound of his voice. It takes a second for his eyes to focus.

"Stay back! Don't come any closer!"

Edward sees the tear tracks on his cheeks in the faint glow from the stern running lights.

"Take my hand. I'll pull you back in."

"No! Stay where you are. I mean it. I'll let go."

"No you won't."

"What do you mean no I won't?" Harrison says angrily. "Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me."

Edward shrugs his shoulders. "You would have done it already. Now come on, take my hand."

Harrison is confused now. He can't see him very well through the tears, so he wipes them with one hand, almost losing his balance.

"You're distracting me. Go away."

"I can't. I'm involved now. If you let go I have to jump in after you."

"Don't be absurd. You'll be killed."

Edward takes off his jacket.

"I'm a good swimmer". He starts unlacing his left shoe.

"The fall alone would kill you."

"It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't. To be honest I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold."

He looks down. The reality factor of what he is doing is sinking in.

"How cold?"

Edward starts taking off his left shoe. "Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over." He starts unlacing his right shoe.

"Have you ever been to Wisconsin?"

He looks at him perplexed. "No."

"Well they have some of the coldest winters around, and I love going up there, near Chippewa Falls. Once when I was a kid me and my father were ice-fishing out on Lake Wissota... ice-fishing's where you chop a hole in the-"

"I know what ice fishing is!" He snapped angrily.

"Sorry. Just... you look like kind of an indoor girl." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm tellin' ya, water that cold... like that right down there... it hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can't breath, you can't think... least not about anything but the pain." Hetakes off his other shoe. "Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But like I said, I don't have a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."

"You're crazy."

"That's what everybody says. But with all due respect, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship."

He slides one step closer, like moving up on a spooked horse and gives him his hand.

"Come on. You don't want to do this. Give me your hand."

Harrison stares at this madman for a long time. He looks at his eyes and they somehow suddenly seem to fill his universe.

"Alright."

He unfastens one hand from the rail and reaches it around toward him. He reaches out to take it, firmly.

"I'm Edward Mason."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mason." His voice quavering.

Harrison starts to turn. Now that he has decided to live, the height is terrifying. He is overcome by vertigo as he shifts his footing, turning to face the ship. As he starts to climb, one foot slips off the edge of the deck. He plunges, letting out a piercing shriek. Edward, gripping his hand, is jerked toward the rail. Harrison barely grabs a lower rail with his free hand.

Quarter Master Rowe, up on the docking bridge hears the scream and heads for the ladder.

"HELP! HELP!" Harrison screams.

"I've got you. I won't let go."

Edward holds his hand with all his strength, bracing himself on the railing with his other hand. Harrison tries to get some kind of foothold on the smooth hull. Edward tries to lift him bodily over the railing. He can't get any footing in his evening shoes, and he slips back. He screams again.

Edward, awkwardly clutching Harrison by whatever he can get a grip on as he flails, gets him over the railing. They fall together onto the deck in a tangled heap, spinning in such a way that Edward winds up slightly on top of him. Rowe slides down the ladder from the docking bridge like it's a fire drill and sprints across the fantail.

"Here, what's all this?"

Rowe runs up and pulls Edward off of Harrison, revealing him disheveled and sobbing on the deck. His suit is torn, and the hem of his shirt pushing up above his waist. He looks at Edward, the shaggy steerage man with his jacket off, and the first class man clearly in distress, and starts drawing conclusions. Two seamen chug across the deck to join them.

Rowe turns to Edward. "Here you, stand back! Don't move an inch!" He turns to the seamen. "Fetch the Master at Arms."

A few minutes later. Edward is being detained by the burly Master at Arms, the closest thing to a cop on board. He is handcuffing Edward. Ginny is right in front of Edward, and furious. She has obviously just rushed out here with Lovejoy and another man, and none of them have coats over their black tie evening dress. The other man is Colonel Archibald Gracie, a mustachioed blowhard who still has his brandy snifter. He offers it to Harrison, who is hunched over crying on a bench nearby, but he waves it away. Ginny is more concerned with Edward. She pokes him by the lapels.

"What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancée? Look at me, you filth! What did you think you were doing?"

"Ginny, stop! It was an accident."

"An accident?"

"It was... stupid really. I was leaning over and I slipped."

Harrison looks at Edward, getting eye contact.

"I was leaning way over, to see the... ah... propellers. And I slipped and I would have gone overboard... and Mr. Mason here saved me and he almost went over himself."

"You wanted to see the propellers?" Ginny says disbelievingly.

Gracie shakes his head. "The young and machinery do not mix."

The Master at Arms turns to Edward. "Was that the way of it?" He asks.

Harrison is begging him with his eyes not to say what really happened.

"Uh huh. That was pretty much it." He looks at Harrison a moment longer. Now they have a secret together.

"Well! The boy's a hero then." Gracie says joyfully. "Good for you son, well done!" He turns to Ginny. "So it's all's well and back to our brandy, eh?"

Edward is uncuffed. Ginny goes to Harrison and starts rubbing his arms to get him warm.

"Let's get you in. You're freezing."

Ginny is leaving without a second thought for Edward.

"Ah... perhaps a little something for the boy?" Grace says in a low voice.

"Oh, right. Mr. Lovejoy. A twenty should do it."

Harrison scoffs. "Is that the going rate for saving the man you love?"

"Harrison is displeased." Ginny hummed. "Mmm... what to do?"

Ginny turns back to Edward. She appraises him condescendingly... a steerage ruffian, unwashed and ill-mannered.

"I know. Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?"

Edward looks at Harrison. "Sure. Count me in."

"Good. Settled then."

Ginny turns to go, putting a possessive arm around Harrison. She leans close to Gracie as they walk away.

"This should be amusing."

Edward stops Lovejoy as he passes. "Can I bum a cigarette?"

Lovejoy smoothly draws a silver cigarette case from his jacket and snaps it open. Edward takes a cigarette, then another, popping it behind his ear for later. Lovejoy lights Edward's cigarette.

"You'll want to tie those." He points to Edward's shoes. "Interesting that the young man slipped so mighty all of a sudden and you still had time to take of your jacket and shoes. Mmmm?"

Lovejoy's expression is bland, but the eyes are cold. He turns away to join his group.

As he undresses for bed sees Ginny standing in her doorway, reflected in the cracked mirror of her vanity. He notices the necklace around her neck.

"Is that my mother necklace?" He asks tense.

Ginny looks at him an unexpected tender look is in her eyes.

"Yes, Le Coeur de la Mer. Your Father gave it to me saying he wanted to see it on the neck his son loves" She moves toward Harrison and wraps her arms around his neck ignoring that he doesn't do anything to show his affections.

"I know you've been melancholy, and I don't pretent to know why." She looks into his eyes."There's nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I'd deny you if youwould deny me. Open your heart to me."

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"So let me get this right. Emmett said holding up a hand as if to stop Edward. "He was going to kill himself by jumping off the Titanic?"

The whole family is enraptured with Edward story. It was the most emotion Edward has shown since he had been turned. The Women were literally on the edge of their seats wanting to hear more.

"Yes, It was the people in his life that put him in that position. No one took the time to notice he was in trouble." He smiled as if in a memory. "I noticed"

"You changed so much Edward. You must have really loved him" Carlisle said softly

"I still do."

**A/N: Whew I made it. I'm thinking about doing this once a week Wednesday. Let me know what you think. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	4. The Sparks of Romance

**Disclaimer: I down own this.**

SATURDAY APRIL 13, 1912

Harrison is stunningly dressed and walking with purpose and determination. Harrison unlatches the gate to go down into third class. The steerage men on the deck stop what they're doing and stare at him. The social center of steerage life. It is stark by comparison to the opulence of first class, but is a loud, boisterous place. There are mothers with babies, kids running between the benches yelling in several languages and being scolded in several more. There are old women yelling, men playing chess, girls doing needlepoint and reading dime novels. There is even an upright piano and Tommy Ryan is noodling around it.

Three boys, shrieking and shouting, are scrambling around chasing a rat under the benches, trying to hit it with a shoe and causing general havoc. Edward is playing with 5 year old Cora Cartmell, drawing funny faces together in his sketchbook. Fabrizio is struggling to get a conversation going with an attractive Norwegian girl, Helga Dahl, sitting with her family at a table across the room.

"No Italian? Some little English?"

"No, no. Norwegian. Only." She replied.

Helga's eye is caught by something. Fabrizio looks, does a double take. Edward, curious, follows their gaze to see...

Harrison, coming towards them. The activity in the room stops... a hush falls. Harrison feels suddenly self-conscious as the steerage passengers stare openlyat this prince, some with resentment, others with awe. He spots Edward and gives a little smile, walking straight to him. He rises to meet him, smiling.

"Hello Edward."

Fabrizio and Tommy are floored. It's like the slipper fitting Cinderella.

"Hello again."

"Could I speak to you in private?" he asks noticing their audience.

"Uh, yes. Of course. After you."

He motions him ahead and follows. Edward glances over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, as he walks out with him leaving a stunned silence. Edward and Harrison walk side by side on the Boat Deck. They pass people reading and talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glance curiously at the mismatched couple. Edward feels out of place in his rough clothes. They are both awkward, for different reasons.

"So, you got a name by the way?" Edward asks breaking the tension.

"Harrison. Harrison DeWitt Bukater."

"That's quite a moniker. I may have to get you to write that down." He says with a laugh.

There is an awkward pause.

"Mr. Mason, I-" Harrison starts.

"Edward."

He looks at him and continues. "Edward... I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you."

"Well, here you are."

"Here I am. I... I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for... for

pulling me back. But for your discretion."

"You're welcome Harrison.

"Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich boy. What does he know about misery?"

"That's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was... what could have happened to hurt this boy so much he thought he had no way out."

"I don't... it wasn't just one thing. It was everything. It was them, it was their whole world. And I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber." Everything he has felt over the years came bursting out.

"I just had to get away... just run and run and run... and then I was at the Back rail and there was no more ship... even the Titanic wasn't big enough. Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious. I'll show them. They'll be sorry!"

"Uh huh. They'll be sorry. 'Course you'll be dead."

He lowers his head. "Oh God, I am such an utter fool."

"That Banshee last night, is she one of them?"

"Banshee? Oh, Ginny! She is them."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Worse I'm afraid." He shows him his engagement ring. Tasteful diamonds scattered throughout the band.

"God look at that thing!" he exclaims grabbing his hand to examine the ring more closely. "You would have gone straight to the bottom."

They laugh together. A passing steward scowls at Edward, who is clearly not a first class passenger, but Harrison just glares at him away.

"So you feel like you're stuck on a train you can't get off 'cause you're marrying this girl."

"Yes, exactly!"

"So don't marry her."

"If only it were that simple." He sighs.

"It is that simple."

"Oh, Edward... please don't judge me until you've seen my world."

"Well, I guess I will tonight."

Looking for another topic, any other topic, he indicates his sketchbook.

"What's this?"

"Just some sketches."

"May I?"

The question is rhetorical because he has already grabbed the book. He sits on a deck chair and opens the sketchbook. On Edward's sketches... each one an expressive little bit of humanity: an old woman's hands, a sleeping man, a father and daughter at the rail. The faces are luminous and alive. His book is a celebration of the human condition.

"Edward, these are quite good! Really, they are."

"Well, they didn't think too much of them in Paree."

Some loose sketches fall out and are taken by the wind. Edward scrambles after them... catching two, but the rest are gone, over the rail.

"Oh no! Oh, I'm so sorry. Truly!"

"Well, they didn't think too much of them in Paree." He snaps his wrist, shaking his drawing hand in a flourish. "I just seem to spew them out. Besides, they're not worth a damn anyway." For emphasis he throws away the two he caught. They sail off. Harrison laughs at his antics.

"You're deranged!" He goes back to the book, turning a page.

"Well, well..."

He has come upon a series of nudes. Harrison is transfixed by the languid beauty he has created. His nudes are soulful, real, with expressive hands and eyes. They feel more like portraits than studies of the human form... almost uncomfortably intimate. Harrison blushes, raising the book as some strollers go by.

"And these were drawn from life?" He asks trying to be very adult.

"Yes. That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls willing take their clothes off." He studies one drawing in particular, the girl posed half in sunlight, half in shadow. Her hands lie at her chin, one furled and one open like a flower, languid and graceful. The drawing is like an Alfred Steiglitz print of Georgia O'Keefe.

"You liked this woman. You used her several times."

"She had beautiful hands."

"I think you must have had a love affair with her..." Harrison smiles.

"No, no! Just with her hands." He laughs.

Harrison looks up from the drawings. "You have a gift, Edward. You do. You see people."

"I see you." He looks at Harrison intently.

"And...?" Harrison straightens up.

"You wouldn't have jumped." He says seriously.

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INT. RECEPTION ROOM / D-DECK

Ginny is having tea with Noel Lucy Martha Dyer-Edwardes, the Countess of Rothes, a 35ish English blue-blood with patirician features. Ruth sees someone coming across the room and lowers her voice.

"Oh no, that vulgar Brown woman is coming this way. Get up, quickly before she sits with us." Molly Brown walks up, greeting them cheerfully as they are rising.

"Hello girls, I was hoping I'd catch you at tea."

"We're awfully sorry you missed it." Ginny smiles falsely. "The Countess and I are just off to take the air on the boat deck."

"That sounds great. Let's go. I need to catch up on the gossip."

Ginny grits her teeth as the three of them head for the Grand Staircase to go up. As they cross the room, they as pass Bruce Ismay and Captain Smith at another table.

"So you've not lit the last four boilers then?" He asks looking at a paper in his hands.

"No, but we're making excellent time." Smith says smiling at Titanic's progress.

Ismay snaps at the Captain impatiently. "Captain, the press knows the size of Titanic, let them marvel at her speed too. We must give them something new to print. And the maiden voyage of Titanic must make headlines!"

Smith narrows his eyes at Ismay. "I prefer not to push the engines until they've been properly run in."

"Of course I leave it to your good offices to decide what's best, but what a glorious end to your last crossing if we get into New York Tuesday night and surprise them all." Ismay slaps his hand on the table.

"Retire with a bang, eh, E.J?"

Smith nods, stiffy.

Harrison and Edward stroll aft**(1)**, past people lounging on deck chairs in the slanting late-afternoon light. Stewards scurry to serve tea or hot cocoa.

"You know" Harrison starts excitedly. "My dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist... living in a garret, poor but free!"

Edward laughs. "You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water, and hardly ever any caviar."

Harrison got angry in a flash. "Listen, buster... I hate caviar! And I'm tired of people dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the head."

"I'm sorry. Really... I am." He says holding his hands up.

"Well, alright. There's something in me, Edward. I feel it. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist, or, I don't know... a dancer. Like Isadora Duncan... a wild pagan spirit..." He leaps forward, lands deftly and whirls like a dervish. Then he sees something ahead and his face lights up.

"..or a moving picture actor!"

He takes his hand and runs, pulling him along the deck toward a man holding a camera filming a young woman by the rail. Daniel is cranking the big wooden movie camera as she poses stiffly at the rail.

"You're sad." He says. "Sad, sad, sad. You've left your lover on the shore. You may never see him agian. Try to be sadder, darling."

Suddenly Harrison shoots into the shot and strikes a theatrical pose at the rail next to Mary. Mary bursts out laughing. Harrison pulls Edward into the picture and makes him pose. Daniel grins and starts yelling and gesturing. Harrison posing tragically at the rail, the back of his hand to his forehead.

Edward on a deck chair, pretending to be a Pasha, the two girls pantomiming fanning him like slave girls.

Edward, on his knees, pleading with his hands clasped while Harrison, standing, turns his head in bored disdain.

Harrison cranking the camera, while Daniel and Edward have a western shoot-out. Edward wins and leers into the lens, twirling an air mustache like Snidely Whiplash.

Painted with orange light, Edward and Harrison lean on the A-deck rail aft, shoulder to shoulder. The ship's lights come on. To both of them is was a magical moment... perfect.

"So then what, Mr. Wandering Edward?"

"Well, then logging got to be too much like work, so I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. That's a swell place, they even have a rollercoaster. I sketched portraits there for ten cents a piece."

"A whole ten cents?" He says in shocked.

Edward looks at him in question not getting it. "Yeah; it was great money... I could make a dollar a day, sometimes. But only in summer. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris and see what the real artists were doing.

Harrison looks at the dusk sky.

"Why can't I be like you Edward? Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it." He turns to him. "Say we'll go there, sometime... to that pier... even if we only ever just talk about it."

"Alright, we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on the rollercoaster until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach... right in the surf... but you have to ride like a cowboy, none of that gentlemen stuff.

"You mean….? Scandalous! Can you show me?"

"Sure. If you like."

Harrison smiles at him. "I think I would." He looks back at the horizon.

"And teach me to spit too. Like a man."

"They didn't teach you that in finishing school? Here, it's easy. Watch closely." He spits. It arcs out over the water.

"Your turn."

Harrison screws up his mouth and spits. A pathetic little bit of foamy spittle which mostly runs down his chin before falling off into the water.

Edward laughs at his attempt. "Nope, that was pitiful. Here, like this... you hawk it down... HHHNNNK!...then roll it on your tongue, up to the front, like thith, then a big breath and PLOOOW! You see the range on that thing?"

He goes through the steps. Hawks it down, etc. He coaches him through it while doing the steps himself. He lets fly. So does he. Two comets of gob fly out over the water.

"That was great!"

Harrison turns to him, his face alight. Suddenly he blanches. He sees him expression and turns. Ginny, the Countess of Rothes, and Molly Brown have been watching them. Harrison becomes instantly composed.

"Ginny darling, may I introduce Edward Mason."

"Charmed, I'm sure." She says her voice cold.

Edward has a little spit running down his chin. He doesn't know it. Molly Brown is grinning.

The others were gracious and curious about our "adventure". But My me looked at me like an insect. A dangerous insect which must be squashed quickly.

"Well, Edward, it sounds like you're a good man to have around in a sticky spot-"

They all jump as a Bugler sounds the meal call right behind them.

"Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?" She says irritated.

"Shall we go dress, Ginny?"

"See you at dinner, Edward." He says over his shoulder as they walk away.

"Oh Harrison, look at you... out with that commoner. Honestly!" Not bothering to lower her voice.

The Countess leaves with Harrison and Ginny, leaving Edward and Molly alone on deck.

"Son, do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing?" She's asks Edward when the others are out of sight.

"Not really."

"Well, you're about to go into the snake pit. I hope you're ready." She looks at his attire. "What are you planning to wear?"

Edward looks down at his clothes and back up at her. He hadn't thought about that.

"I figured."

**(1)aft: at, close to, or toward the stern or tail: **_**Stow the luggage aft.**_** According to . This chapter almost wasn't posted today 'cause I thought today was Tuesday cause my brothers and sisters went to school yesterday so I thought yesterday was Monday…. Memorial day screwed me over but I hope you enjoyed the holiday. With my sister's graduation and the mess that come with it… ill try for Sunday the latest Monday.**

**REVIEWS ARE LOVE PEOPLE!**


	5. The Dinner Party

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything!**

Men's suits and jackets and formal wear are strewn all over the place.Molly is having a fine time. Edward is dressed, except for his jacket, andMolly is tying his bow tie.

"Don't feel bad about it. My husband still can't tie one of these damn things after 20 years. There you go." She picks up a jacket off the bed and hands it to him. Edward goes into the bathroom to put it on. Molly starts picking up the stuff off the bed.

"I gotta buy everything in three sizes 'cause I never know how much he's been eating while I'm away." She turns and sees him.

"My, my, my... you shine up like a new penny." She says smiling.

A purple sky, shot with orange, in the west. Drifting strains of classic music. Edward walks along the deck. By Edwardian standards he looks badass. Dashing in his borrowed white-tie outfit, right down to his pearl studs. A steward bows and smartly opens the door to the First Class Entrance.

"Good evening, sir." He says.

Edward plays the role smoothly. Nods with just the right degree of disdain.

Edward steps in and his breath is taken away by the splendor spread out before him. Overhead is the enormous glass dome, with a crystal chandelier at its center. Sweeping down six stories is the First Class Grand Staircase, the epitome of the opulent naval architecture of the time.

And the people: the women in their floor length dresses, elaborate hairstyles and abundant jewelry... the gentlemen in evening dress, standing with one hand at the small of the back, talking quietly. Edward descends to A deck. Several men nod a perfunctory greeting. He nods back, keeping it simple. He feels like a spy.

Ginny comes down the stairs, with James escorting her, covered in jewelry. They both walk right past Edward, neither one recognizing him. James nods at him, one gent to another. But Edward barely has time to be amused. Because just behind Ginny and James on the stairs was Harrison, a vision in red and black. Edward is hypnotized by his beauty.

He approaches Edward. He imitates the gentlemen's stance, hand behind his back. He extends his hand and he takes it, kissing the back of his fingers. Harrison flushes, beaming noticeably. He can't take his eyes off him.

"I saw that in a nickelodean once, and I always wanted to do it." Edward says laughing.

"Ginny, surely you remember Mr. Mason."

Ginny was caught off guard. "Mason! I didn't recognize you." She studies him. "Amazing! You could almost pass for a gentlemen."

"Almost" He says shrugging.

The party descends to dinner in the Reception Room on D Deck. They encounter Molly Brown, looking good in a beaded dress, in her own busty broad-shouldered way. Molly grins when she sees Edward. As they are going into the dining saloon she walks next to him, speaking low.

"Ain't nothin' to it, is there, Edward?"

"Yeah, you just dress like a pallbearer and keep your nose up."

"Remember, the only thing they respect is money, so just act like you've got a lot of it and you're in the club."

As they enter the swirling throng, Harrison leans close to him, pointing out several notables.

"There's the Countess Rothes. And that's John Jacob Astor... the richest man on the ship. His little wifey there, Madeleine, is my age and in a delicate condition. See how she's trying to hide it. Quite the scandal." He says nodding toward a couple.

"And over there, that's Sir Cosmo and Lucile, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals."

James becomes engrossed in conversations with Cosmo Duff-Gordon and Colonel Gracie, while Ginny, the Countess and Lucille discuss fashion. Harrison picots Edward smoothly, to show him another couple, dressed impeccably.

"And that's Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert. Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with the children, of course."

Ginny, meanwhile, is accepting the praise of his female counterparts, who are looking at Harrison like a prize show horse.

"Hockley, he is splendid."

"Thank you."

"You are a lucky woman. I know him well, and it can only be luck."

James steps over, hearing the last. He takes Ginny's arm, somewhat coquettishly.

"How can you say that Miss? My son is a great catch."

The entourage strolls toward the dining saloon, where they run into the Astor's going through the ornate double doors.

"J.J., Madeleine, I'd like you to meet Edward Mason."

Astor shakes his hand. "Good to meet you Edward. Are you of the Boston Masons?"

"No, the Chippewa Falls Masons, actually."

J.J. nods as if he's heard of them, then looks puzzled. Madeleine Astor appraises Edward and whispers girlishly to Harrison.

"It's a pity we're both spoken for, isn't it?"

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Like a ballroom at the palace, alive and lit by a constellation of chandeliers, full of elegantly dressed people and beautiful music from Band Leader Wallace Hartley's small orchestra. As Harrison and Edward enter and move across the room to their table, James and Ginny beside them.

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Mason. I hear they're quite good on this ship." Ginny says with a smile.

Edward is seated opposite Harrison, who is flanked by James and Thomas Andrews. Also at the table are Molly Brown, Ismay, Colonel Gracie, the Countess, Guggenheim, Madame Aubert, and the Astors.

"The best I've seen, m'am. Hardly any rats."

Harrison motions surreptitiously for Edward to take his napkin off his plate.

"Mr. Dawson is joining us from third class. He was of some assistance to my fiancee last night." Ginny explains to the group. She turns to Edward and talks as if to a child.

"This is foie gras. It's goose liver."

Whispers exchanged. Edward becomes the subject of furtive glances. Now they're all feeling terribly liberal and dangerous. Guggenheim whispers low to Madame Aubert.

"What is Hockly hoping to prove, bringing this... bohemian... up here?"

A waiter approaches Edward. "How do you take your caviar, sir?"

Ginny answering for him. "Just a soupcon of lemon..." She looks at him. "It improves the flavor with champagne." She says with a smile.

Edward turns to the waiter. "No caviar for me, thanks." He looks directly at Ginny. "Never did like it much."

He looks at Harrison, pokerfaced, and he smiles.

"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Mason?" James asks.

"Well, right now my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor."

Salad is served. Edward reaches for the fish fork. Harrison gives him a look and picks up the salad fork, prompting him with his eyes. He changes forks.

"You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" James continues disdain now in his voice.

"Well... it's a big world, and I want to see it all before I go. My Grandfather was always talkin' about goin' to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in, and never did see it. You can't wait around, because you never know what hand you're going to get dealt next. See, my folks wanted me to settle down and become a lawyer so I left when I was fifteen because I wanted to be a musician or an artist, and I've been on the road since. Somethin' like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count."

Molly Brown raises her glass in a salute.

"Well said, Edward."

Colonel Gracie raises his glass. "Here, here."

Harrison raises his glass, looking at Edward.

"To making it count."

Ginny, annoyed that Edward has scored a point, presses him further.

"How is it you have the means to travel, Mr. Mason?

"I work my way from place to place. Tramp steamers and such. I won my ticket

on Titanic here in a lucky hand at poker." He glances at Harrison. "A very lucky hand."

"All life is a game of luck." Gracie says.

"A real man makes his own luck, Archie."

Harrison notices that Thomas Andrews, sitting next to him, is writing in his notebook, completely ignoring the conversation.

"Mr. Andrews, what are you doing? I see you everywhere writing in this little book." He grabs it and reads.

"Increase number of screws in hat hooks from 2 to 3. You build the biggest ship in the world and this preoccupies you?" Andrews smiles sheepishly.

Ismay joins in the converstation.

"He knows every rivet in her, don't you Thomas?"

"All three million of them."

"His blood and soul are in the ship. She may be mine on paper, but in the eyes of God she belongs to Thomas Andrews."

"Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews. Truly."

"Thank you, Harrison."

Dessert has been served and a waiter arrives with cigars in a humidor on a wheeled cart. The men start clipping ends and lighting.

Harrison talks low, to Edward.

"Nest it'll be brandies in the Smoking Room."

Gracie rises from the table. "Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?"

Harrison continues. "Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe.

"Joining us, Mason? Harrison? You don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?"

"No thanks. I'm heading back."

"Probably best." Ginny says. "It'll be all business and politics, that sort of thing. Wouldn't interest you. Good of you to come." She turns to the others while the men leave.

"Edward, must you go?" Harrison asks.

"Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin." He leans over to take his hand. He slips a tiny folded note into his palm.

Ginny, scowling, watches him walk away across the enormous room. Harrison surreptitiously opens the note below table level. It reads: "Make it count. Meet me at the clock".

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Harrison crosses the A-Deck foyer, sighting at the landing above. Overhead is the crystal dome. Edward has his back to him, studying the ornate clock with its carved figures of Honor and Glory. He goes up the sweeping staircase toward him. He turns, sees him and smiles.

"Want to go to a real party?"


	6. Cupid Strikes

**Disclaimer: I down own this.**

Crow led and alive with music, laughter and raucous carrying on. An ad hoc band is gathered near the upright piano, honking out lively stomping music on fiddle, accordion and tambourine. People of all ages are dancing, drinking beer and wine, smoking, laughing, even brawling.

Tommy hands Harrison a pint of stout and he hoists it. Edward meanwhile dances with 5 year old Cora Cartmell, or tries to, with her standing on his feet. As the tune ends, Harrison leans down to the little girl.

"May I cut in, miss?"

"You're still my best girl, Cora." He reassures her.

Cora smiles and scampers off to her father. Harrison and Edward face each other. He is trembling as he

takes his right hand in his left. His other hand slides to the small of his back. It is an electrifying moment.

"I don't know the steps."

"Just move with me. Don't think."

The music starts and they are off. A little awkward at first, he starts to get into it. He grins at Edward as he starts to get the rhythm.

"Wait... stop!"

He bends down, pulling off his dress shoes, and flings them to Tommy. Then he grabs Edward and they plunge back into the fray, dancing faster as the music speeds up. The scene is rowdy and rollicking. A table gets knocked over as a drunk crashes into it. And in the middle of it Harrison is dancing with Edward in his socked feet. The steps are fast and he shines with sweat. A space opens around them, and people watch them, clapping as the band plays faster and faster.

Fabrizio and Helga are dancing has obviated the need for a common language. He

whirls her, then she responds by whirling him. Fabrizio's eyes go wide when he realizes she's stronger than he is.

The tune ends in a mad rush. Edward steps away from Harrison with a flourish, allowing him to take a bow. Exhilarated and slightly tipsy, he does a graceful ballet ployer, feet turned out perfectly. Everyone laughs and applauds. Harrison is a hit with the steerage folks, who've never had a First Class man party with them.

They move to a table, flushed and sweaty. Harrison grabs Fabrizio's cigarette and takes a big drag. He's feeling cocky. Fabrizio is grinning, holding hands with Helga.

"How you two doin'?" Edward asks.

"I don't know what she's say, she don't know what I say, so we get along

fine." He laughs.

Tommy walks up with a pint for each of them. Harrison chugs his, showing off.

"You think a first class boy can't drink?"

Everybody else is dancing again, and Bjorn Gundersen crashes into Tommy, who sloshes his beer over Harrison suit. He laughs, not caring, but Tommy lunges, grabbing Bjorn and wheeling him around.

"You stupid bastard!"

Bjorn comes around, his fists coming up and Edward leaps into the middle of it, pushing them apart.

"Boys, boys! Did I ever tell you the one about the Swede and the Irishman

goin' to the whorehouse?"

Tommy stands there, all piss and vinegar, chest puffed up. Then he grins and claps Bjorn on the shoulder.

"So, you think you're big tough men?" Harrison says pushing them back to make himself some room. "Let's see you do this."

In his socked feet he assumes a ballet stance, arms raised, and goes up on point, taking his entire weight on the tips of his toes. The guys gape at his incredible muscle control. He comes back down, then his face screws up in pain. He grabs one foot, hopping around.

"Oooowww! I haven't done that in years."

Edward catches him as he loses his balance, and everyone cracks up.

The door to the well deck is open a few inches as Lovejoy watches through

the gap. He sees Edward holding Harrison, both of them laughing. Lovejoy closes the door.

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The stars blaze overhead, so bright and clear you can see the Milky Way. Harrison and Edward walk along the row of lifeboats. Still giddy from the party, they are singing a popular song "Come Josephine in My Flying Machine".

_Come Josephine in my flying machine_

_And it's up she goes! Up she goes!_

_In the air she goes. Where? There she goes!_

They fumble the words and break down laughing. They have reached the First Class Entrance, but don't go straight in, not wanting the evening to end. Through the doors the sound of the ship's orchestra wafts gently. Harrison grabs a davit and leans back, staring at the cosmos.

"Isn't it magnificent? So grand and endless." He goes to the rail and leans on it.

"They're such small people, Edward... my crowd. They think they're giants on the earth, but they're not even dust in God's eye. They live inside this little tiny champagne bubble... and someday the bubble's going to burst."

He leans at the rail next to him, his hand just touching his. It is the slightest contact imaginable, and all either one of them can feel is that square inch of skin where their hands are touching.

"You're not one of them. There's been a mistake."

"A mistake?"

"Uh huh. You got mailed to the wrong address." He says laughing.

"I did, didn't I?" He says joining him in laughter. He points suddenly at the sky.

"Look! A shooting star."

"That was a long one. My father used to say that whenever you saw one, it

was a soul going to heaven."

"I like that. Aren't we supposed to wish on it?"

Edward looks at him, and finds that they are suddenly very close together. It would be so easy to move another couple of inches, to kiss him. Harrison seems to be thinking the same thing.

"What would you wish for?" After a beat, Harrison pulls back.

"Something I can't have." He smiles sadly.

"Goodnight, Edward. And thank you." He leaves the rail and hurries through the First Class Entrance.

"Harrison!" But the door bangs shut, and he is gone. Back to his world.

SUNDAY APRIL 14, 1912.

A bright clear day. Sunlight splashing across the promenade. Harrison and Ginny are having breakfast in silence. The tension is palpable. Trudy Bolt, in her maid's uniform, pours the coffee and goes

inside.

"I had hoped you would come to me last night."

"I was tired."

"Yes. Your exertions below decks were no doubt exhausting."

Harrison stiffens at the implication. "I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me."

"You will never behave like that again! Do you understand?"

"I'm not some foreman in your Daddy's mills than you can command! I am your

Fiancée-"

Ginny explodes, sweeping the breakfast china off the table with a crash

"Yes! You are! And my Husband... in practice, if not yet by law. So you will honor me, as a Husband is required to honor his wife! I will not be made out a fool! Is this in any way unclear? Because if it is then the engagement is off; I have plenty of other suitors to choose from."

Harrison shrinks into the chair not having the strength to fight her. He sees Trudy, frozen, partway through the door bringing the orange juice. Ginny follows Harrison's glance and straightens up. She stalks past the maid, entering the stateroom.

"We... had a little accident. I'm sorry, Trudy."

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Harrison is dressed for the day, and is in the middle of helping James with his

tie. The situation did not inhibit James' fury at all.

"You are not to see that boy again, do you understand me Harrison? I forbid it!"

"Oh, stop it, Father. You'll give yourself a nosebleed."

James pulls away from him, and crosses to the door, locking it. CLACK!

"Harrison, this is not a game! Our situation is precarious. You know the money's

gone!"

"Of course I know it's gone. You remind me every day!"

"I know I've made a lot of bad choices but it hidden by a good name. And that name is the only card we have to play."

Harrison grabs the tie and wraps it around his neck. James stands still as his son continues his task.

"I don't understand you. It is a fine match with Ginny, and it will insure our survival."

"How can you put this on my shoulders?" He asks hurt lacing his voice.

Harrison finally looks into his father's eyes and sees something he never saw before….the naked fear in his eyes was astounding.

"Do you want to see me working at some factory? Is that what you want? Do you want to see our fine things sold at an auction, our memories scattered to the winds? My God, Harrison, how can you be so selfish?"

"It's so unfair."

"Of course it's unfair! We're men. Our choices are never easy, we have to do what is best for the family and this is the best choice we have."

Harrison pulls the tie tighter.

At the divine service, Captain Smith is leading a group in the hymn "Almighty Father Strong To Save." James, Harrison and Ginny sing in the middle of the group.

Lovejoy stands well back, keeping an eye on Harrison. He notices a commotion at the entry doors. Edward has been halted there by two stewards. He is dressed in his third class clothes, and stands there, hat in hand, looking out of place.

"Look, you, you're not supposed to be in here."

"I was just here last night... don't you remember?" He sees Lovejoy coming toward him. "He'll tell you."

"Ms. Hockley and Mr. DeWitt Bukater continue to be most appreciative of your assistance. They asked me to give you this in gratitude-" He holds out two twenty dollar bills, which Edward refuses to take.

"I don't want money, I-"

"-and also to remind you that you hold a third class ticket and your presence here is no longer appropriate."

Edward spots Harrison but he doesn't see him.

"I just need to talk to Harrison for a-"

"Gentlemen, please see that Mr. Mason gets back where he belongs." Giving the twenties to the stewards. "And that he stays there."

"Yes sir!" The stewards turn to Edward. "Come along you."

Harrison, not seeing Edward hustled out continues to sing.

_O hear us when we cry to thee for those in peril on the sea._

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A woman pedals a stationary bicycle in a long dress, looking ridiculous. Thomas Andrews is leading a small tour group, including Ginny, Harrison and James. James is working the oars of a stationary rowing machine with a well trained stroke.

"Reminds me of my Harvard days." He says with a smile.

T.W. McCauley, the gym instructor, is a bouncy little man in white flannels, eager to show off his modern equipment, like his present-day counterpart on an "Abflex" infomercial. He hits a switch and a machine with a saddle on it starts to undulate. Harrison puts his hand on it, curious.

"The electric horse is very popular. We even have an electric camel." McCauley turns to Ginny with a smile. "Care to try your hand at the rowing, m'am?"

"Don't be absurd." She says with a sneer. "I can't think of a skill I should likely need less."

"The next stop on our tour will be bridge. This way, please." Andrews calls out to the group.

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Edward, walking with determination, is followed closely by Tommy and Fabrizio. He quickly climbs the steps to B-Deck and steps over the gate separating 3rd from 2nd class. Tommy tries again t reason with Edward.

"He's a god amongst mortal men, there's no denyin'. But he's in another world, Eddie, forget him. He's closed the door."

Edward moves furtively to the wall below the A-Deck promenade, aft.

"It was them, not him." He glances around the deck.

"Ready... go."

Tommy shakes his head resignedly and puts his hands together, crouching down. Edward steps into Tommy's hands and gets boosted up to the next deck, where he scrambles nimbly over the railing, onto the First Class deck.

"He's not bein' logical, I tell ya." He says turning to Fabrizio.

"Amore is'a not logical."

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A man is playing with his son, who is spinning a top with a string. The man's overcoat and hat are sitting on a deck chair nearby. Edward emerges from behind one of the huge deck cranes and calmly picks up the coat and bowler hat. He walks away, slipping into the coat, and slicks his hair back with spit. Then puts the hat on at a jaunty angle. At a distance he could pass for a gentlemen.

Harold Bride, the 21 year old Junior Wireless Operator, hustles in and skirts around Andrews' tour group to hand a Marconigram to Captain Smith.

"Another ice warning, sir. This one from the "Baltic"."

"Thank you, Bride."

Smith glances at the message then nonchalantly puts it in his pocket. He nods reassuringly to Harrison and the group.

"Not to worry, it's quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we're speeding up. I've just ordered the last boilers lit."

Andrews scowls slightly before motioning the group toward the door. They exit just as Second Officer Charles Herbert Lightoller comes out of the chartroom, stopping next to First Officer Murdoch.

"Did we ever find those binoculars for the lookouts?"

"Haven't seen them since Southampton."

Andrews leads the group back from the bridge along the boat deck.

"Mr. Andrews," Harrison catching his attention. "I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned... forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard."

"About half, actually." He smiles at him. "Harrison, you miss nothing, do you? In fact, I put in these new type davits, which can take an extra row of boats here."He gestures along the deck."But it was thought... by some... that the deck would look too cluttered. So I was over-ruled."

James slaps the side of a boat. "Waste of deck space as it is, on an unsinkable ship!"

Andrews turns back to Harrison. "Sleep soundly, young Harrison. I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She's all the lifeboat you need."

As they are passing Boat 7, a gentlemen turns from the rail and walks up behind the group. It is Edward. He taps Harrison on the arm and he turns, gasping. He motions and he cuts away from the group toward a door which heholds open. They duck into the gymnasium.

Edward closes the door behind him, and glances out through the ripple-glass window to the starboard rail, where the gym instructor is chatting up the woman who was riding the bike. Both of them are alone in the room.

"Edward, this is impossible. I can't see you."

He takes him by the shoulders.

"Harrison, you're no picnic... you're a spoiled little brat even, but under that you're a strong, pure heart, and you're the most amazingly astounding guy I've ever known and-"

"Edward, I-"

"No wait. Let me try to get this out. You're amazing... and I know I have nothing to offer you, Harrison. I know that. But I'm involved now. You jump, I jump, remember? I can't turn away without knowin' that you're goin' to be alright."

Harrison feels the tears coming to his eyes. Edward is so open and real... not like anyone he has ever known.

"You're making this very hard. I'll be fine. Really."

"I don't think so. They've got you in a glass jar like some butterfly, and you're goin' to die if you don't break out. Maybe not right away, 'cause you're strong. But sooner or later the fire I love about you is goin' to go out."

"It's not up to you to save me, Edward."

"You're right. Only you can do that."

"I have to get back, they'll miss me. Please, Edward, for both our sakes, leave me alone."


	7. The Calm Before The Storm

**I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! IM POOR SO DON'T SUE ME!**

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The most elegant room on the ship, done in Louis Quinze Versaille style. Harrison sits on a divan, with a group of women arrayed around him. Ginny, the Countess Rothes and Lady Duff-Gordon are taking tea. Harrison is silent and is still as a porcelain figurine as the conversation Ginny is having with the other women about the upcoming wedding washes around him.

"Of course the invitations had to be sent back to the printers twice. And the bridesmaids dresses! Let me tell you what an odyssey that has been..."

Ignoring her he looks around spotting a mother and daughter having tea. The four year old girl, wearing white gloves, daintily picking up a cookie. The mother correcting her on her posture, and the way she holds the teacup. The little girl is trying so hard to please, her expression serious. He remembers similar lessons… the pain into becoming an Edwardian gentleman. He calmly and deliberately turns his teacup over, spilling tea all over his pants.

"Oh, look what I've done."

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The Titanic steams in the dusk light, as if lit by the embers of a giant fire.At the bow Edward is there, right at the apex of the bow railing, his favorite spot. He closes his eyes, letting the chill wind clear his head.

But then Edward hears _his_ voice, behind him...

"Hello, Edward."

He turns and he is standing there smiling softly at him.

"I changed my mind."

He smiles at him, his eyes drinking him in. Harrison's cheeks are red with the chill wind, and his eyes sparkle. His hair blows wildly about his face.

"Fabrizio said you might be up-" He started nervously.

"Sssshh... Come here." He holds out his hand for Harrison to take which he does. He puts his hands on his waist. He leans in as if he is going to kiss him.

"Close your eyes." He whispers.

He does, and he turns him to face forward, the way the ship is going. He presses him gently to the rail, standing right behind him. Then he takes his hands and raises them until he is standing with his arms outstretched on each side. Harrison is going along with him. When he lowers his hands, his arms stay up... like wings.

"Okay. Open them." Edward wisphers.

Harrison gasps. There is nothing in his field of vision but water. It was like there was no ship under them at all, just the two of them soaring. The Atlantic unrolls toward him, a hammered copper shield under a dusk sky.

There is only the wind, and the hiss of the water 50 feet below.

"I'm flying!" He says excitedly.

He leans forward, arching his back. Edward puts his hands on his waist to steady him.

_"__Come Josephine in my flying machine_..." Edward sings softly.

Harison closes his eyes, feeling himself floating weightless far above the sea. He smiles dreamily, then leans back, gently pressing his back against Edward's chest. He pushes forward slightly against him.

Slowly he raises his hands, arms outstretched, and they meet his fingertips gently touching. Then their fingers intertwine. Moving slowly, their fingers caress through and around each other like the bodies of two lovers.

Edward tips his face forward into his blowing hair, letting the scent of Harrison wash over him, until his cheek is against his ear.

Harrison turns his head until his lips are near his. He lowers his arms, turning further, until he finds his mouth with his. Edward wraps his arms around him from behind, and they kiss like this with his head turned and tilted back, surrendering to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. They kiss, slowly and tremulously, and then with building passion.

Edward and the ship seem to merge into one force of power and optimism, lifting him, buoying him forward on a magical journey, soaring onward into a night without fear.

In the crow's nest, high above and behind them, lookout Frederick Fleet nudges his mate, Reginald Lee, pointing down at the figures in the bow.

"Wish I had those bleedin' binoculars."

"_That was the last time Titanic ever saw daylight." _ The Cullen Coven are sitting in front of Edward listening with rapt attention.

"That has got to be the most romantic thing I have ever heard." This surprisingly came from Rosalie.

"So we're up to dusk on the night of the sinking. Six hours left to go" said Jasper.

"Don't you love it? There's Smith, he's standing there with the iceberg warning in his fuckin..."

"EMMETT!" Cried Esme.

"... excuse me... in his hand, and he's ordering more speed"

"26 years of experience working against him. He figures anything big enough to sink the ship they're going to see in time to turn. But the ship's too big, with too small a rudder... it can't corner worth shit. Everything he knows is wrong."

"Boys..." Carlisle says interrupting their conversation while looking at Edwards worryingly.

Edward is ignoring this conversation. Instead he is looking at the television which is now showing pictures of the once proud ship. He couldn't hear what the reporter is saying due to Emmett putting it on mute. Ignoring his family worried looks he continues his story.

Harrison room was like a dream of beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery. Edward is overwhelmed by the opulence of the room. He sets his sketchbook and drawing materials on the marble table.

"Will this light do? Don't artists need good light?" Harrison asks nervously.

Edward looks at him laughter filling his as he spoke in a bad French accent.

"Zat is true, I am not used to working in such 'orreeble conditions."

"Hey... Monet!" He cries excitedly and crouches next to the paintings stacked against the wall.

"Isn't he great... the use of color? I saw him once... through a hole in this garden fence in Giverny."

Harrison goes into the adjoining walk-in wardrobe closet. He sees him go to the safe and start working the combination. He's fascinated.

"My Father insist on lugging this thing everywhere." He says indicting the safe.

"Should I be expecting him anytime soon?"

"Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out."

Harrison unlocks the safe. Glancing up, he meets his eyes in the mirror behind the safe. He opens it and removes the necklace, then holds it out to Edward who takes it nervously.

"What is it? A sapphire?"

"A diamond. A very rare diamond, called the Heart of the Ocean."

Edward gazes at wealth beyond his comprehension.

"Edward I want you to draw me like your French girl. Wearing this." He smiles suggestively at him.

"Wearing _only_ this."

He looks up at him, surprised.

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.

In the Sitting room Edward is laying out his pencils like surgical tools. His sketchbook is open and ready. He looks up as Harrison comes into the room, wearing a silk kimono and a smile.

"The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a china doll. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want."

He hands him a dime and steps back, parting the kimono. The blue stone lies on his creamy chest. His heart is pounding as he slowly lowers the robe. Edward looks so stricken, it is almost comical as the kimono drops to the floor.

"Tell me when it looks right to you." He poses on the divan, settling like a cat.

"Uh... just bend your left leg a little and... and lower your head. Eyes to me. That's it."

Edward starts to sketch. He drops his pencil and Harrison stifles a laugh.

"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste. I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing."

"He does landscapes." Said Edward in explanation.

Despite his nervousness, he draws with sure strokes, and what emerges is the best thing he has ever done. Harrison pose is languid, his hands beautiful, and his eyes radiate his energy.

_My heart was pounding the whole time. It was the most erotic moment of my life... up till then at least. Edward says reminiscing._

The semicircle of listeners stares at him in rapt, frozen silence looking like perfect statues.The story of Edward and Harrison has finally and completely grabbed them.

"So what happens next?" Asks Emmett eagerly.

"You mean, did we "do it"?" If it was possible they all would be blushing.

Edward is signing the drawing. Harrison, wearing his kimono again, is leaning on his shoulder, watching.

"_Sorry to disappoint you Emmett."_

Harrison gazes at the drawing. Edward has X-rayed his soul. "Date it, Edward. I want to always remember this night."

He does: 4/14/1912. Harrison meanwhile scribbles a note on a piece of Titanic stationary. He accepts the drawing from Edward, and crosses to the safe in the wardrobe. He puts the diamond back in the safe, placing the drawing and the note on top of it. Closes the door with a CLUNK!

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Lovejoy enters from the Palm Court through the revolving door and crosses the room toward Hockley. A fire is blazing in the marble fireplace, and the usual Ladies are talking. Ginny sees Lovejoy and excuses herself from her group, coming to him.

"None of the stewards have seen him."

"This is ridiculous, Lovejoy. Find him." She demands low but forceful.

Titanic glides across an unnatural sea, black and calm as a pool of oil. The ships lights are mirrored almost perfectly in the black water. The sky is brilliant with stars. A meteor traces a bright line across the heavens.

On the Bridge, Captain Smith peers out at the blackness ahead of the ship. Quartermaster Hitchins brings him a cup of hot tea with lemon. It steams in the bitter cold of the open bridge. Second Officer Lightoller is next to him, staring out at the sheet of black glass the Atlantic has become.

"I don't think I've ever seen such a flat calm, in 24 years at sea." Says Lightoller to the Captain.

"Yes, like a mill pond. Not a breath of wind."

"It's make the bergs harder to see, with no breaking water at the base."

"Mmmmm" Smith plays with the lemon in his tea for a moment. "Well, I'm off. Maintain speed and heading, Mr. Lightoller."

"Yes sir."

"And wake me, of course, if anything becomes in the slightest degree doubtful."

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Harrison, fully dressed now, returns to the sitting room. They hear a key in the lock. He takes Edward's hand and leads him silently through the bedrooms. Lovejoy enters by the sitting room door.

"Miss Harrison? Hello?"

He hears a door opening and goes through Ginny's room toward his.

Harrison and Edward come out of his stateroom, closing the door. He leads him quickly along the corridor toward the B deck foyer. They are halfway across the open space when the sitting room door opens in the corridor and Lovejoy comes out. The valet sees Edward with Harrison and hustles after them.

"Come on!" yells Harrison.

He and Edward break into a run, surprising the few ladies and gentlemen about. Harrison leads him past the stairs to the bank of elevators. They run into one, shocking the hell out of the operator.

"Take us down. Quickly, quickly!"

The Operator scrambles to comply. Edward even helps him close the steel gate. Lovejoy runs up as the lift starts to descend. He slams one hand on the bars of the gate. Harrison makes a very rude and ungentlemanlike gesture, and laughs as Lovejoy disappears above. The Operator gapes at him.

Lovejoy emerges from another lift and runs to the one Edward and Harrison were in. The Operator is just closing the gate to go back up. Lovejoy runs around the bank of elevators and scans the foyer... no sign of them. He tries the stairs going down to F-Deck.

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A functional space, with access to a number of machine spaces (fan rooms, boiler uptakes). Edward and Harrison are leaning against a wall, laughing.

"Pretty tough for a valet, this fella."

"He's an ex-Pinkerton. Ginny's father hired him to keep her out of trouble to make sure she always got back to the hotel with her purse and virtue, after some crawl through the less reputable parts of town..."

"Kinda like we're doin' right now- uh oh!"

Lovejoy has spotted them from a cross-corridor nearby. He charges toward them. They both run around a corner into a blind alley. There is one door, marked CREW ONLY, and Edward flings it open. They enter a room with roaring machines, with no way out but a ladder going down. Edward latches the deadbolt on the door, and Lovejoy slams against it a moment later. He grins at Harrison, pointing to the ladder.

"After you, good sir"

Edward and Harrison come down the escape ladder and look around in amazement. It is like a vision of hell itself, with the roaring furnaces and black figures moving in the smoky glow. They run the length of the boiler room, dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal.

"Carry on! Don't mind us!" Edward shouts over the din.

They run through the open watertight door into Boiler room six. Edward pulls Harrison through the fiercely hot alley between two boilers and they wind up in the dark, out of sight of the working crew. Watching from the shadows, they see the stokers working in the hellish glow, shovelling coal into the insatiable maws of the furnaces. The whole place thunders with the roar of the fires.


	8. All Hell Breaks Loose

**AN: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! Also I fixed all pervious chapters but if you still see mistakes please let me know.**

The furnaces roar, silhouetting the glistening stokers. Edward kisses Harrison's face, tasting the sweat trickling down from his forehead. They kiss passionately in the steamy, pounding darkness.

Edward and Harrison enter and run laughing between the rows of stacked cargo. He hugs himself against the cold, after the dripping heat of the boiler room. They come upon William Carter's brand new Renault touring car, lashing down to a pallet. It looks like a royal coach from a fairy tale, its brass trim and headlamps nicely set off by its deep burgundy color.

Harrison climbs into the plushy upholstered back seat, acting very royal. There are cut crystals bud vases on the walls back there, each containing a rose. Edward jumps into the driver's seat, enjoying the feel of the leather and wood.

"Where to, Mister?" Acting the part of the driver.

"To the stars." Harrison whispers in his ear.

Edward turned to him as his hands come out of the shadows and pulls him over the seat into the back. He lands next to him, and his breath seems loud in the quiet darkness. He looks at him and he is smiling. It is the moment of truth.

"Are you nervous?" Edward whispers.

"Au contraire, _mon cher_."

He strokes his face, cherishing him. He kisses his artist's fingers.

"Put your hands on me Edward." He sounded so sure.

He kisses him, and he slides down in the seat under his welcome weight.

In the wireless room; the sparks gap of the Marconi instrument as Senior Wireless Operator Edward Phillips (24) rapidly keys out a message. Junior Operator Bride looks through the huge stack of outgoing messages swamping them.

"Look at this one," Bride turns to Phillips's. "He wants his private train to meet him. La dee da." He throws the message back in the pile.

"We'll be up all bloody night on this lot."

Phillips starts to receive an incoming message from a nearby ship, the Leyland freighter CALIFORNIAN, which jams his outgoing signal. At such close range, the beeps are deafening.

"Christ! It's that idiot on the Californian."

Cursing, Phillips furiously keys a rebuke.

**WIRELESS SHAK, FREIGHTER CALIFORNIAN**

Wireless Operator Cyril Evans pulls his earphone off his ear as the Titanic's spark deafens him. He translates the message for Third Officer Groves.

"Stupid bastard. I try to warn him about the ice, and he says "Keep out. Shut up. I'm working Cape Race.""

"Now what's he sending?"

"No seasickness. Poker business good. Al". Well that's it for me. I'm shutting down."

As Evans wearily switches off his generator, Groves goes out on deck. He looks out into the open sea; packs ice and icebergs stretching as far as the eye can see.

**TITANIC (see AN)**

And on the rear window of the Renault, which is completely fogged up. Harrison's hand comes up and slams against the glass for a moment, making a handprint in the veil of condensation.

Inside the car, Edward's overcoat is like a blanket over them. It stirs and Harrison pulls it down. They are huddled under it, intertwined, still mostly clothed. Their faces are flushed and they look at each other wonderingly. He puts Harrison's hand on his face, as if making sure he is real.

"You're trembling."

"It's okay. I'm alright." Edward is quick to reassure him.

He lays his cheek against Harrison's chest.

"I can feel your heart beating."

Harrison hugs his head to his chest, and just holds on for dear life.

In the crow's nest Fleet and Lee are stamping their feet and swinging their arms, trying to keep warm in the 22 knot freezing wind, which whips vapor of their breath away behind.

"You can smell ice, you know, when it's near?"

"Bollocks." Said Lee not believing it.

"Well I can."

Without hearing the words over the roar of the furnaces, the stokers telling two stewards which way Harrison and Edward went. The stewards move off toward the forward holds.

Ginny stands at the open safe. She stares at the drawing of Harrison and her face clenches with fury. She reads the note again: _"DARLING, NOW YOU CAN KEEP US_ _BOTH LOCKED IN YOUR SAFE, -HARRISON"._

Lovejoy, standing behind her, looks over her shoulder at the drawing. Ginny crumples Harrison's note, then takes the drawing in both hands as if to rip it in half. She tenses to do it, then stops herself.

"I have a better idea."

The two stewards enter. They have electric torches and play the beams around the hold. They spot the Renault with it's fogged up rear window and approach it slowly. One of the stewards lifts of their torch lights up to see Harrison's passionate handprint, still there on the fogged up glass. One steward whips open the door.

"Got yer!"

"The back seat is empty."

Harrison and Edward, fully dressed, come through a crew door onto the deck. They can barely stand, they are laughing so hard. Above them, in the crow's nest, lookout Fleet hears the disturbance below and looks around and back down to the well deck, where he can see two figures embracing.

Edward and Harrison stand in each others arms. Their breath clouds around them in the now freezing air, but they don't even feel the cold. Harrison caught his breath and looked seriously at Edward.

"When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you."

"This is crazy."

"I know. It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it."

Edward pulls Harrison to him and kisses him fiercely.

In the crow's nest Fleet nudges Lee.

"Cor... look at that, would ya." Lee moves to look at what Fleet staring at.

"They're a bloody sight warmer than we are."

"Well if that's what it takes for us two to get warm, I'd rather not, if it's all the same." Fleet shoves Lee off with a laugh.

They both have a good laugh at that one. It is Fleet whose expression falls first. Glancing forward again, he does a double take. The color drains out of his face.

In their path was a massive iceberg right in their path, 500 yards out.

"Bugger me!"

Fleet reaches past Lee and rings the lookout bell three times, then grabs the telephone, calling the bridge. He waits precious seconds for it to be picked up, never taking his eyes off the black mass ahead.

"Pick up, ya bastards." He says in a panicky voice.

Sixth Officer Moody walks unhurriedly to the telephone, picking it up.

"Is someone there?"

"Yes. What do you see?" Moody says in an unconcerned tone.

"ICEBERG RIGHT AHEAD!"

"Thank you." He hangs up and calls to Murdoch.

"Iceberg right ahead!"

Murdoch sees it and rushes to the engine room telegraph. While signaling "FULL SPEED ASTERN" he yells to Quartermaster Hitchins, who is at the wheel.

"Hard a' starboard." He orders.

Moody shouts out orders from his spot behind Hitchins

"Hard'a starboard. The helm is hard over, sir."

Chief Engineer Bell is just checking the soup he has warming on a steam manifold when the engine telegraph clangs, then goes... incredibly... to FULL SPEED ASTERN. He and the other engineers just stare at it a second, unbelieving. Then Bell reacts.

"Full astern! FULL ASTERN!"

The engineers and greasers run like madmen to close steam valves and start braking the mighty propeller shafts, big as sequoias, to a stop.

In Boiler room six, Leading Stoker Frederick Barrett is standing with 2nd Engineer James Hesketh when the red warning light and "STOP" indicator come on.

"Shut all dampers! Shut 'em!" Barrett yelled/ordered.

From the bridge Murdoch watches the burg growing... straight ahead. The bow finally starts to come left (since the ship turns the reverse of the helm setting).

Murdoch's jaw clenches as the bow turns with agonizing slowness. He holds his breath as the horrible physics play out. In the crow's nest Frederick Fleet braces himself.

**CRUUUNCH!** The ship hits the berg on its starboard bow.

Underwater the ice smashed in the steel hull plates. The iceberg bumps and scrapes along the side of the ship. Rivets pop as the steel plate of the hull flexes under the load.

In the #2 HOLD the two stewards stagger as the hull buckles in four feet with a sound like thunder. Like a sledgehammer beating along outside the ship, the berg splits the hull plates and the sea pour in, sweeping them off their feet. The icy water swirls around the Renault as the men scramble for the stairs.

On G-Deck forward Fabrizio is tossed in his bunk by the impact. He hears a sound like the greatly amplified squeal of a skate on ice. In Boiler Room six Barret and Hesketh stagger as they hear the rolling thunder of the collision. They see the starboard side of the ship buckle in toward them and are almost swept off their feet by a rush of water coming in about two feet above the floor.

On the Forward well Deck Edward and Harrison break their kiss and look up in astonishment as the berg sails past, blocking out the sky like a mountain. Fragments break off it and crash down onto the deck, and they have to jump back to avoid flying chunks of ice.

On the bridge Murdoch rings the watertight door alarm. He quickly throws the switch that closes them.

"Hard a 'port!" yells Murdoch. Judging the berg to be amidships, he is trying to clear the stern.

Barrett and Hesketh hear the door alarm and scramble through the swirling water to the watertight door between Boiler Rooms 6 and 5. The room is full of water vapor as the cold sea strikes the red hot furnaces. Barrett yells to the stokers scrambling through the door as it comes down like a slow guillotine.

"Go Lads! Go! Go!" Barrett yells.

He dives through into Boiler Room 5 just before the door rumbles down with a clang. Edward and Harrison rush to the starboard rail in time to see the berg moving aft down the side of the ship. In his stateroom, surrounded by piles of plans while making notes in his ever-present book, Andrews looks up at the sound of a cut-crystal light fixture tinkling like a wind chime. He feels the shudder run through the ship. And see it in his face. Too much of his soul is in this great ship for him not to feel it's mortal wound. In the Palm Court, with its high arched windows, Molly Brown holds up her drink to a passing waiter.

"Hey, can I get some ice here, please?"

Silently, a moving wall of ice fills the window behind her. She doesn't see it. It disappears astern.

In the crow's nest Fleet turns to his Lee.

"Oy, mate... that was a close shave." Lee grabs Fleet and shakes him angrily.

"Smell ice, can you? Bleedin' Christ!" Lee pushes Fleet away.

The alarm bells still clatter mindlessly, seeming to reflect Murdoch's inner state. He is in shock, unable to get a grip on what just happened. He just ran the biggest ship in history into an iceberg on its maiden voyage.

Murdoch turns to Moody. "Note the time. Enter it in the log."

Captain Smith rushes out of his cabin onto the bridge, tucking in his shirt.

"What was that, Mr. Murdoch?"

"An iceberg, sir. I put her hard a' starboard and run the engines full astern, but it was too close. I tried to port around it, but she hit... and I-"

"Close the emergency doors."

"The doors are closed."

Together they rush out onto the starboard wing, and Murdoch points. Smith looks into the darkness aft, then wheels around to Fourth Officer Bohall.

"Find the Carpenter and get him to sound the ship."

**AN:** I can't write love scenes if anyone wants to write one and send it to me the best one would be put in all credit would be theirs. I'll be updating soon and my **Kingdom hearts/Harry Potter will be up with the next update**. See you soon!


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I am SOOOO SORRY about not updating sooner but I promise you I would NEVER give up on this or any other story I come up with (I have been attacked by plot bunnies). So enjoy!**

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

In steerage, Fabrizio comes out into the hall to see what's going on. He sees dozens of rats running toward him in the corridor, fleeing the flooding bow. Fabrizio jumps aside as the rats run by him.

"Ma- che cazzo!" he cried in shock as water continues to flood the corridor.

In his stateroom Tommy gets out of his top bunk in the dark and drops down to the floor.

SPLASH!

"Cor! What in hell-?"

He turns on the light to investigate. To his shock the floor is covered with 3 inches of freezing water, and more coming in. He pulls the door open, and steps out into the corridor, which is flooded. Fabrizio is running toward him, yelling something in Italian. Tommy and Fabrizio start pounding on doors, getting everybody up and out. The alarm spreads in several languages.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

A couple of people have come out into the corridor in robes and slippers questioning the stewards as they pass.

"Why have the engines stopped? I felt a shudder?" A first class woman asked a passing steward.

"I shouldn't worry, ma'am. We've likely thrown a propeller blade, that's the shudder you felt. May I bring you anything?" the steward says trying to reassure her.

Thomas Andrews brushes past them, walking fast and carrying an armload of rolled up ship's plans. The fear in his eyes apparent to any who were paying attention.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Edward and Harrison lean over the starboard rail, looking at the hull of the ship and the passing iceberg.

"Looks okay." He says turning to Harrison. "I don't see anything."

"Could it have damaged the ship?"

"It didn't seem like much of a bump. I'm sure we're okay."

Behind them a couple of steerage guys are kicking the ice around the deck, laughing.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Fabrizio and Tommy are in a crowd of steerage men clogging the corridors, heading aft away from the flooding. Many of them have grabbed suitcases and duffel bags, some of which are soaked.

"If this is the direction the rats were runnin', it's good enough for me." Tommy says to Fabrizio pointing to the rodents running in the corridor.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Bruce Ismay, dressed in pajamas under the topcoat, hurries down the corridor, headed for the bridge. An officious steward named Barnes comes along the other direction, trying to get the few concerned passengers back into their rooms.

"There's no cause for alarm. Please, go back to your rooms." He is stopped in his tracks by Ginny and Lovejoy.

"Please, Miss. There's no emergency-"

"Yes there is, I have been robbed. Now get the Master at Arms. Now you moron!" Ginny angrily demands.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Captain Smith studies the commutator intently. After making sure of what he was looking at he turns to Andrews, who is standing behind him.

"A five degree list in less than ten minutes."

The ship's carpenter John Hutchinson enters behind him, out of breath and clearly unnerved.

"She's making water fast... in the forepeak tank and the forward holds, in boiler room six."

Ismay enters his movements quick with anger and frustration. Smith glances at him with annoyance.

"Why have we stopped?"

"We've struck ice." Smith says annoyance clear in his voice.

"Well, do you think the ship is seriously damaged?"

He glares at Ismay. "Excuse me." Smith pushes past him, with Andrews and Hutchinson in tow.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Stokers and firemen are struggling to draw the fires. They are working in waist deep water churning around as it flows into the boiler room, ice cold and swirling with grease from the machinery. Chief Engineer Bell comes partway down the ladder and shouts.

"That's it, lads. Get the hell up!" They scramble up the escape ladders.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

The gentlemen, now joined by another man, leans on the forward rail watching the steerage men playing soccer with chunks of ice.

"I guess it's nothing too serious. I'm going back to my cabin to read." A 20ish YALE MAN pops through the door wearing a topcoat over pajamas passing the gentleman heading to his cabin.

"Say, did I miss the fun?"

Harrison and Edward come up the steps from the well deck, which are right next to the three men. They stare as the couple climbs over the locked gate. A moment later Captain Smith rounds the corner, followed by Andrews and Carpenter Hutchinson. They have come down from the bridge by the outside stairs. The three men, their faces grim, push right past Edward and Harrison.

"Can you shore up?"

"Not unless the pumps get ahead."

"The inspection party goes down the stairs to the well deck."

Edward turns to Harrison. "It's bad."

"We have to tell Father and Ginny."

"Now it's worse."

"Come with me, Edward. I jump, you jump... Right?"

Edward smiles softly at him, love clearly shining in his eyes. "Right."

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Edward and Harrison cross the foyer, entering the corridor. Lovejoy is waiting for them in the hall as they approach the room.

"We've been looking for you sir."

Lovejoy follows and, unseen, moves close behind Edward and smoothly slips the diamond necklace into the pocket of his overcoat.

Ginny and James wait in the sitting room, along with the Master at Arms and two stewards. Silence falls upon the room as Harrison and Edward enter. James glares at Edward when he sees the two holding hands.

"Father something serious has happened."

"That's right." Ginny interrupts angrily. "Two things dear to me have disappeared this evening. Now that one is back..." she looks from Harrison to Edward. "... I have a pretty good idea where to fine the other." She turns to the Master at Arms.

"Search him." She demands pointing to Edward. The Master at Arms steps up to Edward.

"Coat off, mate."

Lovejoy pulls at Edward's coat and Edward shakes his head in dismay, shrugging out of it. The Master at Arms pats him down.

"This is horseshit."

Harrison turns disbelieving to Ginny. "Ginny, you can't be serious! We're in the middle of an emergency and you-" but he was cut off as the steward pulls the Heart of the Ocean out of the pocket of Edward's coat.

"Is this it?" Harrison is stunned. Needless to say, so is Edward.

"That's it" Ginny says smugly.

"Right then. Now don't make a fuss." The Master at Arms starts to handcuff Edward.

"Don't you believe it, Harrison. Don't!"

Harrison looks at Edward uncertain. "He couldn't have."

"Of course he could. Easy enough for a professional. He memorized the combination when you opened the safe."

But then he remembers Harrison at the safe, looking in the mirror and meeting Edward's eyes as he stands behind him, watching. "But I was with him the whole time."

Ginny walks up to him her voice low and cold. "Maybe he did it while you were putting your clothes back on."

"They put it in my pocket!"

"It's not even your pocket, son." Lovejoy holds up the coat. "Property of A. L. Ryerson". Lovejoy shows the coat to the Master at Arms. There is a label inside the collar with the owner's name.

"That was reported stolen today." The Master at arms says taking the coat

"I was going to return it! Harrison-" Edward struggles against the man holding him; determined to reach him.

Harrison feels utterly betrayed, hurt and confused. He shrinks away from him. Edward starts shouting to him as Lovejoy and the Master at Arms drag him out into the hall. He can't look him in the eye.

"Harrison, don't listen to them... I didn't do this! You know I didn't! You know it!"

Harrison is devastated. His Father lays a comforting hand on his shoulder as tears well up.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Smith and Andrews come down the steps to the Mail Sorting Room and finds the clerks scrambling to pull mail from the racks. They are furiously hauling wet sacks of mail up from the hold below. Andrews climbs partway down the stairs to the hold, which is almost full. Sacks of mail float everywhere. The lights are still on below the surface, casting an eerie glow. The Renault is visible under the water, the brass glinting cheerfully. Andrews looks down as the water covers his shoe, and scrambles back up the stairs to the Chartroom.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Andrews unrolls a big drawing of the ship across the chartroom table. It is a side elevation, showing all the watertight bulkheads. His hands are shaking. Murdoch and Ismay hover behind Andrews and the Captain.

ISMAY

"When can we get underway, do you think?" Ismay demands annoyed that the ship has stopped.

Smith glares at him and turns his attention to Andrews' drawing. The builder points to it for emphasis as he talks.

"Water 14 feet above the keel in ten minutes... in the forepeak... in all three holds... and in boiler room six."

"That's right." Smith confirms.

"Five compartments. She can stay afloat with the first four compartments breached. But not five. Not five. As she goes down by the head the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads... at E Deck... from one to the next... back and back. There's no stopping it."

"The pumps-"

"The pumps buy you time... but minutes only. From this moment, no matter what we do, Titanic will founder."

"But this ship can't sink!" exclaimed Ismay.

"She is made of iron, sir. I assure you, she can. And she will. It is a mathematical certainty.

Smith looks like he has been punched. "How much time?"

"An hour, two at most." Andrews whispers

Ismay reels as his dream turns into his worst nightmare.

"And how many aboard, Mr. Murdoch?"

"Two thousand two hundred souls aboard, sir." Murdoch answers fear coloring his voice. Smith turns to his employer.

"I believe you may get your headlines, Mr. Ismay."

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Andrews is striding along the boat deck, as seamen and officers scurry to uncover the boats. Steam is venting from pipes on the funnels overhead, and the din is horrendous. Speech is difficult adding to the crew's level of disorganization. Andrews sees some men fumbling with the mechanism of one of the Welling davits and yells to them over the roar of steam.

"Turn to the right! Pull the falls taut before you unlock. Have you never had a boat drill?"

"No sir! Not with these new davits, sir".

He looks around, disgusted as the crew fumbles with the davits and the tackle for the "falls"... the ropes which are used to lower the boats. A few passengers are coming out on deck, hesitantly in the noise and bitter cold.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

From inside the sitting room they can hear knocking and voices in the corridor.

"I had better go dress." James looks at his son before exiting.

As soon as the door closes behind him Ginny crosses to Harrison. She regards him coldly for a moment, and then SLAPS him across the face.

"It is a little slutty, isn't it?"

To Harrison the blow is inconsequential compared to the blow his heart has been given. Ginny grabs his face roughly, her nails digging into the skin painfully.

"Look at me, you little-"

There is a loud knock on the door and an urgent voice. The door opens and their steward puts his head in.

"Sorry to disturb you, I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelt, and come up to the boat deck."

"Get out. We're busy." She snarled but the steward persists, coming in to get the lifebelts down from the top of a dresser.

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience Miss, but it's Captain's orders. Please dress warmly, it's quite cold tonight." He hands a lifebelt to Harrison.

"Not to worry, sir, I'm sure it's just a precaution."

In the corridor outside the stewards are being so polite and obsequious they are conveying no sense of danger whatsoever.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Doors are thrown open and the lights snapped on by stewards. The Cartmell family rouses from a sound sleep.

"Everybody up. Let's go. Put your lifebelts on."

In the corridor outside, another steward is going from door to door along the hall, banging through doors and yelling.

"Lifebelts on. Lifebelts on. Everybody up, come on. Lifebelts on..."

People come out of the doors behind the steward, perplexed. In the foreground a Syrian Woman asks her husband what was said. He shrugs.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

_**WIRELESS ROOM**_

"CQD, sir?" Phillips asks the Captain looking shocked

"That's right. The distress call. CQD. Tell whoever responds that we are going down by the head and need immediate assistance." Smith hurries out.

"Blimey." He looks toward fellow crew member Bride.

"Maybe you ought to try that new distress call... S.O.S." Bride grins at him. "It may be our only chance to use it."

Phillips laughs in spite of himself and starts sending history's first S.O.S. dit dit dit... over and over.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Thomas Andrews looks around in amazement. The deck is empty except for the crew fumbling with the davits. He yells over the roar of the steam to First Officer Murdoch.

"Where are all the passengers?"

"They've all gone back inside. Too damn cold and noisy for them."

Andrews feels like he is in a bad dream. He looks at his pocket watch and heads for the foyer entrance. A large number of First Class passengers have gathered near the staircase. They are getting indignant about the confusion. Molly Brown snags a passing young steward.

"What's doing, sonny? You've got us all trussed up and now we're cooling our heels."

The young steward backs away, actually stumbling on the stairs. "Sorry, mam. Let me go and find out."

The jumpy piano rhythm of "Alexander's Ragtime Band" comes out of the first class lounge a few yards away. Band leader Wallace Hartley has assembled some of his men on Captain's orders, to allay panic.

Ginny's entourage comes up to the A-deck foyer. Cal is carrying the lifebelts, almost as an afterthought. Harrison is like a sleepwalker.

"It's just the God damned English doing everything by the book." She says waving a hand at the stewards

"There's no need for language, Ginvera." said James disapprovingly. He turns toward Trudy.

"Go back and turn the heater on in my room, so it won't be too cold when we get back."

Thomas Andrews enters, looking around the magnificent room, which he knows is doomed. Ginny, standing nearby, sees his heartbroken expression. He walks over to Andrews with Ginny right behind him.

"I saw the iceberg, Mr. Andrews. And I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth."

Looking at his Harrison determined face He knew he had no choice. He takes him gently by the hand and leads away not wanting to be overheard.

"The ship will sink."

"You're certain?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yes" Andrews choked out. "In an hour or so... all this... will be at the bottom of the Atlantic."

"My God, The Titanic? Sinking?" Ginny gasps from behind them.

"Please tell only who you must, I don't want to be responsible for a panic. And get to a boat quickly. Don't wait. You remember what I told you about the boats?"

"Yes, I understand" He nods to show he got his message. "Thank you."

Andrews goes off, moving among the passengers and urging them to put on their lifebelts and get to the boats.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Lovejoy and the Master at Arms are handcuffing Edward to a 4" WATER PIPE as a Crew man rushes in anxiously.

"You're wanted by the Purser, sir. Urgently."

"Go on. I'll keep an eye on him."

Lovejoy pulls a pearl handled Colt .45 automatic from under his coat. The Master at Arms nods and tosses the handcuff key to Lovejoy, then exits with the crewman. Lovejoy flips the key in the air and catches it.

**BRIDGE**

Junior Wireless Operator Bride rushes to Captain Smith to relay a message from The Cunard Liner Carpathia.

"Carpathia says they're making 17 knots, full steam for them, sir."

"And she's the only one who's responding?" Smith says looking over the telegram.

"The only one close, sir. She says they can be here in four hours."

"Four hours!" He exclaims. "Thank you, Bride"

He turns as Bride exits, and looks out onto the blackness. The enormity of it hits Smith like a sledgehammer blow.

"My God."

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Lightoller has his boats swung out. He is standing amidst a crowd of uncertain passengers in all states of dress and undress. One first class woman is barefoot. Others are in stockings. The maitre of the restaurant is in top hat and overcoat. Others are still in evening dress, while some are in bathrobes and kimonos. Women are wearing lifebelts over velvet gowns. Some brought jewels, others books, even small dogs.

Lightoller sees Smith walking stiffly toward him and quickly goes to him. He yells into the Captain's ear, through cupped hands, over the roar of the steam.

"Hadn't we better get the women and children into the boats, sir?

Smith just nods, a bit abstractly. The fire has gone out of him. Lightoller sees the awesome truth in Smith's face.

"Right! Start the loading. Women and children!"

The appalling din of escaping steam abruptly cuts off, leaving a sudden unearthly silence in which Lightoller's voice echoes.

Wallace Hartley raising his violin to play along with the rest of the band members.

"Number 26, nice and lively so there is no panic. Ready and-"

The band has reassembled just outside the First Class Entrance, port side, near where Lightoller is calling for the boats to be loaded. They strike up a waltz, lively and elegant. The music wafts all over the ship.

"Ladies, please. Step into the boat."

Finally one woman steps across the gap, into the boat, terrified of the drop to the water far below.

"You watch. They'll put us off in these silly little boats to freeze, and we'll all be back on board by breakfast." She says to the frighten women behind her.

It is chaos, with stewards pushing their way through narrow corridors clogged with people carrying suitcases, duffel bags, children. Some have lifebelts on, others don't.

"I told the stupid sods no luggage. Aw, bloody hell!"

The steward throws up his hand at the sight of a family, loaded down with cases and bags, completely blocking the corridor.

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

Fabrizio and Tommy push past the stewards, going the other way. They reach a__huge crowd gathered at the bottom of the Main 3RD Class Stairwell. Fabrizio__spots Helga with the rest of the Dahl family, standing patiently with__suitcases in hand. He reaches her and she grins, hugging him.__Tommy pushes to where he can see what's holding up the group. There is a steel gate across the top of the stairs, with several stewards and seamen on the other side.

"Stay calm, please. It's not time to go up to the boats yet."

Near Tommy, an Irishwoman stands stoically with two small children and their battered luggage.

"What are we doing, mummy?" The small little boy asks tugging on his mother skirt.

"We're just waiting, dear. When they finish putting First Class people in the boats, they'll be startin' with us, and we'll want to be all ready, won't we?"

_**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC**_

**STARBOARD SIDE**

Boat 7 is less than half full, with 28 aboard a boat made for 65.

"Lower away! By the left and right together, steady lads!" Murdoch yells over the noise.

The boat lurches as the falls start to pay out through the pulley blocks. The women gasp. The boat descends, swaying and jerking, toward the water 60 feet below. The passengers are terrified.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't Own Anything! **

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE THEN NEW CHAPTER! **

**Anywho, there is a scheme brewing up with the FF staff and they're planning to take down any and every story over the M rated section (stories with yaoi, yuri, het lemons, song based stories, extreme violence, etc) ...**

**So on June 23rd, there will be an official Black Out. Authors will not log in, read, or review stories. Those who do not have accounts are also affected by FF's decisions too. Please participate and spread the news! If enough authors take part in this event, FF will know we mean business. Also, if anybody has any information on when this purging on M-rated fics will be please contact me. I would like to know in advance.**

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**NOW ON WITH THE CHAPTER!**

Inside the Master at Arms' Office Edward sits chained to the water pipe, next to the porthole glaring hatefully at Lovejoy as he sits on the edge of the desk. He puts a .45 bullet on the desk and watches it roll across and catches it as it falls off.

He turns to Edward as he put the bullet in its chamber. "You know... I believe this ship may sink." A sinister smile graced his face as he crosses over to Edward.

"I've been asked to give you this small token of our appreciation..." He punches Edward hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Compliments of Mrs. Ginvera Hockley.

Lovejoy flips the handcuff key in the air, catches it and puts it in his pocket as he leaves. Edward is left gasping, handcuffed to the pipe.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

At the stairwell rail on the bridge wing, Fourth Officer Boxhall and Quartermaster Rowe light the first distress rocket. It shoots into the sky and explodes with a thunderclap over the ship, sending out white starbursts which light up the entire deck as they fall. The Managing Director of White Star Line is cracking. Already at the breaking point from his immense guilt, the rocket panics him. He starts shouting at the officers struggling with the falls of Boat 5.

"There is no time to waste!" He yells waving his arms franticly. "Lower away! Lower away! Lower away!"

Fifth Officer Lowe, a baby-faced 28, and the youngest officer, looks up from the tangled falls at the madman. "Get out of the way, you fool!"

"Do you know who I am?"

Lowe, not having a clue nor caring, squares up to Ismay. "You're a passenger. And I'm a ship's bloody officer. Now do what you're told!" He turns toward his fellow crew members. "Steady men! Stand by the falls!"

Ismay numbly backs away from Lowe. "Yes, quite right. Sorry"

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Second Officer Lightoller is loading the boat nearest Ginny, James and Harrison.

"Into the Boats!" Lightoller yells. Another rocket bursts overhead, lighting the crowd. Startled faces turn upward. Fear now in the eyes. Daniel Marvin has his Biograph camera set up, cranking away... hoping to get an exposure off the rocket's light. He has Mary posed in front of the scene at the boats.

"You're afraid, darling. Scared to death. That's it!" Either she suddenly learned to act or she is petrified.

Harrison watches the farewells taking pace right in front of him as they step closer to the boat. Husbands saying goodbye to wives and children. Lovers and friends parted. Nearby Molly is getting a reluctant woman to board the boat.

"Come on, you heard the man. Get in the boat, sister."

James tries to grab Lightoller attention. "Will the lifeboats be seated according to class? I hope they're not too crowded-"

"Oh, Father shut up!" James Freezes and turns toward his son lost for words.

"Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats... not enough by half. Half the people on this ship are going to die."

"Not the better half." Ginny sneers.

And then it hits him like a thunderbolt. Edward is third class. He doesn't stand a chance. Another rocket bursts overhead, bathing his face in white light.

"You unimaginable bitch."

"Come on, get in the boat. These are the first class seats right up here. That's it." Molly practically hands Ginny and James over to Lightoller, and then looks around for some others who might need a push.

"Come on, Harrison. You're next, darlin'.

Harrison steps back, shaking his head.

"Harrison, get in the boat!" James orders.

"Goodbye, Father."

James stands in the tippy lifeboat, does nothing but stares at his son. Ginny quickly climbs out of the boat grabs Harrison's arm but he pulls free and walks away through the crowd. Ginny catches up to Harrison and grabs him again, roughly.

"Where are you going? To him? Is that it? To be a whore to that gutter rat?"

"I'd rather be his whore than your Husband." He sneers at her.

She clenches her jaw and squeezes his arm viciously, trying pulling her back toward the lifeboat. Harrison pulls out of her grip and runs into the crowd.

"Lower away!" Lightoller yells.

"Harrison! HARRISON!" yelled James trying to get out of the boat to search for his son.

"Stuff a sock in it, would ya, James. He'll be along."

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

The hull of Titanic looms over Boat 6 like a cliff. Its enormous mass is suddenly threatening to those in the tiny boat. Quartermaster Hitchins, at the tiller, wants nothing but to get away from the ship. Unfortunately his two seamen can't row. They flail like a duck with a broken wing.

"Keep pulling... away from the ship. Pull."

"Ain't you boys ever rowed before? Here, gimme those oars. I'll show ya how it's done." Molly climbs over Ruth to get at the oars, stepping on her feet. Around them the evacuation is in full swing, with boats in the water, others being lowered.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Edward pulls on the pipe with all his strength. It's not budging. He hears gurgling sound. Water pours under the door, spreading rapidly across the floor.

"Shit." He tries to pull one hand out of the cuffs, working until the skin is raw.

"Help! Somebody! Can anybody hear me?" He stares at the rushes water.

"This could be bad."

The corridor outside is deserted. Flooded a couple of inches deep. Edward's voice comes faintly through the door, but there is no one to hear it.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Thomas Andrews is opening stateroom doors, checking that people are out.** "**Anyone in here?"

Harrison runs up to him, breathless. "Mr. Andrews, thank God! Where would the Master at Arms take someone under arrest?"

"What? You have to get to a boat right away!" He grabs his arm and starts pulling him in the direction of the boats.

"No! I'll do this with or without your help, sir. But without will take longer." He looks at Andrews determination shining in his eyes.

Defeated he lets go of him. "Take the elevator to the very bottom, go left, down the crewman's passage, then make a right."

"Bottom, left, right. I have it." He turns and runs toward the elevators.

"Hurry, Harrison."

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Harrison runs up as the last Elevator Operator is closing up his lift to leave.

"Sorry, sir, lifts are closed-"

Without thinking Harrison grabs him and shoves him back into the lift. "I'm through with being polite, goddamnit! I may never be polite the rest of my life! Now take me down!"

The operator fumbles to close the gate and start the lift.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Molly, and the two seamen are rowing, and they've made it a hundred feet or so. Enough to see that the ship is angled down into the water, with the bow rail less than ten feet above the surface.

"Come on, join in, it'll keep ya warm. Let's go James. Grab an oar!"

James just stares at the spectacle of the great liner, its rows of lights blazing, slanting down into the sullen black mirror of the Atlantic.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Through the wrought iron door of the elevator car Harrison can see the decks going past. The lift slows and suddenly ice water is swirling around his legs. He screams in surprise. So does the operator. The car has landed in a foot of freezing water, shocking the hell out of them. He claws the door open and splashes out. The lift goes back up, behind him, as he looks around.

"Left, crew passage." He mumbles to himself. He spots it and slogs down the flooded corridor. The place is understandably deserted. He is on his own.

"Right, right... right." He turns into a cross-corridor, splashing down the hall. A row of doors on each side.

"Edward? Edward!" He yells down the corridor.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Edward is hopelessly pulling on the pipe again, straining until he turns red.He collapses back on the bench realizing he's screwed. Then he hears Harrison through the door.

"HARRISON! In here!"

Harrison hears his voice behind him. He spins and runs back, locating the right door, then pushes it open, creating a small wave. He splashes over Edward and puts his arms around him.

"Edward, Edward, Edward... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"That guy Lovejoy put it in my pocket."

"I know, I know." 

"See if you can find a key for these. Try those drawers. It's a little brass one."

He kisses his face and hugs him again, then starts to go through the desk.

"So... how did you find out I didn't do it?" He asks curiously.

"I didn't." He turns to looks at him. "I just realized I already knew."

They share a look, then he turns back to ransacking the room, searching drawers and cupboards. Edward sees movement out the porthole and looks out. A Lifeboat hits the surface of the water, seen from below.

**Please review!**

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE FOR THOSE SKIPED IT BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO READ THE NEW CAHPTER (I do the same thing too XP)**

**There is a scheme brewing up with the FF staff and they're planning to take down any and every story over the M rated section (stories with yaoi, yuri, het lemons, song based stories, extreme violence, etc)**

**So on June 23rd, there will be an official Black Out. Authors will not log in, read, or review stories. Those who do not have accounts are also affected by FF's decisions too. Please participate and spread the news! If enough authors take part in this event, FF will know we mean business. Also, if anybody has any information on when this purging on M-rated fics will be please contact me. I would like to know in advance.**

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**And if that doesn't work just google it But PLEASE SIGN IT! **


	11. Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: I OWN ANYTHING!

While the seamen detach the falls, Boat One rocks next to the hull. Lucile and Sir Cosmo Duff-Gordon sit with ten others in a boat made for four times that many.

I despise small boats." Lucile complained. "I just know I'm going to be seasick. I always get seasick in small boats. Good Heavens, there's a man down there."

In a lit porthole beneath the surface she sees Edward looking up at her... a face in a bubble of light under the water.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Harrison stops trashing the room, and stands there, breathing hard.** "**There's no key in here."

They look around at the water, now almost two feet deep. Edward pulled his feet up onto the bench and looks at Harrison.

"You have to go for help."

"I'll be right back."

"I'll wait here."

He runs out, looking back at him once from the doorway, then splashes away. Edward looks down at the swirling water.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Harrison splashes down the hall to a stairwell going up to the next deck. He climbs the stairs, his long coat leaving a trail like a giant snail. The weight of it is really slowing him down. He rips at the buttons and shimmies quickly out of the thing. He bounds up the stairs trying to ignore the freezing cold water. He enters a long corridor... part of the labyrinth of steerage hallways forward. Harrison is alone here. A long groan of stressing metal echoes along the hall as the ship continues to settle. He runs down the hall, unimpeded now.

"Hello? Somebody?"

He turns a corner and runs along another corridor in a daze. The hall slopes down into water which, shimmers, reflecting the light. The margin of the water creeps toward him. A young man enter the corridor he was in, running through the water, sending up geysers of water. He pelts past him without slowing, his eyes crazed.

"Help me! We need help!" He calls after him.

He doesn't look back. It is like a bad dream. The hull gongs with terrifying sounds. The lights flicker and go out, leaving utter darkness for a beat, they come back on. He finds himself hyperventilating. That one moment of blackness was the most terrifying of his life.

A steward runs around the nearest corner, his arms full of lifebelts. He is upset to see someone still in his section. He grabs him forcefully by the arm, pulling him with him like a wayward child.

"Come on, then, let's get you topside, sir, that's right."

"Wait. Wait! I need your help! There's-" He tried to pull the steward in the direction of Edward.

"No need for panic. Come along!"

"No, let me go! You're going the wrong way!" He tried to get out of his hold but the steward was not listening and he wouldn't let him go.

He shouts in his ear, and when he turns, he punches him squarely in the nose. Shocked, he lets him go and staggers back.

"To Hell with you!"

"See you there, buster!"

The steward runs off, holding his bloody nose. He spits after him. Just the way Edward taught him. He turns around and sees a glass case with a fire-axe in it. He breaks the glass with a battered suitcase which is lying discarded nearby, and seizes the axe, running back the way he came. At the stairwell he looks down and gasps. The water has flooded the bottom five steps. He goes down and has to crouch to look along the corridor to the room where Edward is trapped. Harrison plunges into the water, which is up to his waist... and powers forward, holding the axe above his head in two hands. He grimaces at the pain from the literally freezing water.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Edward has climbed up on the bench, and is hugging the water pipe. Harrison wadesin, holding the axe above his head.

"Will this work?" Edward smiles at him.

"We'll find out."

They are both terrified, but trying to keep panic at bay. He positions the chain connecting the two cuffs, stretching it taut across the steel pipe. The chain is of course very short, and his exposed wrists are on either side of it.

"Try a couple practice swings." He says jerking his head toward a wooden cabinet on the other side of the room. Harrison waded across the room toward the cabinet. He hefts the axe and thunks into it.

"Good, now try to hit the same mark again."

He swings hard and the blade thunks in four inches from his original mark.

"Okay, that's enough practice." He gives Harrison a shakey smile.

He winces, bracing himself as Harrison raises the axe. He has to hit a target about an inch wide with all the force he can muster, with his hands on either side.

"You can do it, Harrison. Hit it as hard as you can, I trust you."

Edward closes his eyes. So does Harrison.

The axe comes down. K-WHANG! Harrison gingerly opens her eyes looks... Edward is grinning with two separate cuffs.

"Nice work, there, Paul Bunyan."

Harrison drops the axe, all the strength going out of him. Edward climbs down into the water next to her. He can't breathe for a second.

"Shit! Excuse my French. Ow ow ow, that is cold! Come on, let's go."

They wade out into the hall. Harrison starts toward the stairs going up, but Edward stops him. There is only about a foot of the stairwell opening visible.

"Too deep. We gotta find another way out."

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

The widest passageway in the ship, it is used by crew and steerage alike, and runs almost the length of the ship. Right now steerage passengers move along it like refugees, heading aft.

_CRASH!_

A wooden doorframe splinters and the door bursts open under the force of Edward's shoulder. Edward and Harrison stumble through, into the corridor. A steward, who was nearby herding people along, marches over.

"Here you! You'll have to pay for that, you know. That's White Star Line property-"

Edward and Harrison turn angrily to the steward. "_**SHUT UP!**_"

Edward leads Harrison past the dumbfounded steward. They join the steerage stragglers going aft. In places the corridor is almost completely blocked by large families carrying all their luggage.

An Irish woman gives Harrison a blanket, more for modesty because she is blue-lipped and shivering.

"Here, sir, cover yerself."

Edward rubs his arms and tries to warm him up as they walk along. The woman's husband offers them a flask of whiskey.

"This'll take the chill off."

Harrison takes a mighty belt and hands it to Edward. He grins and follows suit. Edward tries a number of doors and iron gates along the way, finding them all locked.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

On the boat deck, the action has moved to the aft group of boats, numbers9, 11, 13 and 15 on the starboard side, and 10, 12, 14 and 16 on the portside. The pace of work is more frantic. The crew and officers are runningnow to work the davits, their previous complacency gone.

Ginny pushes through the crowd, scanning for Harrison. Around her is chaos and confusion. A woman is calling for a child who has become separated from the crowd. A man is shouting over people's heads. A woman takes hold of Second Officer Lightoller's arm as he is about to launch Boat 10.

"Will you hold the boat a moment? I have to run back to my room for something-"

Lightoller grabs her and shoves her bodily into the boat. Thomas Andrews rushes up to him just then.

"Why are the boats being launched half full?"

Lightoller steps past him, helping a seaman clear a snarled fall.

"Not now, Mr. Andrews."

Andrews points down at the water. "There, look... twenty or so in a boat built for sixty five. And I saw one boat with only twelve. Twelve!"

"Well... we were not sure of the weight-" Lightoller says uncertainly.

"Rubbish!" Andrews shouts angrily. "They were tested in Belfast with the weight of 70 men. Now fill These boats, Mr. Lightoller. For God's sake, man!"

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

"He's not on the starboard side either." Lovejoy reported to Ginny.

"We're running out of time." Ginny says frustrated. "And this strutting martinet..." She indicates to Lightoller. "...isn't letting any men in at all."

"The one on the other side is letting men in."

***"Then that's our play. But we're still going to need some insurance. Come on."

Ginny charges off, heading forward, followed by Lovejoy. They move pass a finely dressed elderly couple, Ida and Isador Strauss.

"Please, Ida, get into the boat."

"No. We've been together for forty years, and where you go, I go. Don't argue with me, Isador, you know it does no good." She looks at her husband stubbornly. He looks at her with sadness and great love. They embrace gently.

"Lower away!" Lightoller yells.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

At the Bow... the place where Edward and Harrison first kissed... the bow railing goes under water. Water swirls around the capstans and windlasses on the foc'sle deck. Smith strides to the bridge rail and looks down at the well deck. Water is shipped over the sides and the well deck is awash. Two men run across the deck, their feet sending up spray. Behind Smith, Boxhall fires another rocket.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Fabrizio, standing with Helga Dahl and her family, hears Edward's voice.

"Fabrizio! Fabri!"

Fabrizio turns and sees Edward and Harrison pushing through the crowd. He and Edward hug like brothers.

"The boats are all going."

"We gotta get up there or we're gonna be gargling saltwater. Where's Tommy?"

Fabrizio points over the heads of the solidly packed crowd to the stairwell.

Tommy has his hands on the bars of the steel gate which blocks the head of the stairwell. The crew open the gate a foot or so and a few women are squeezing through.

"Women only. No men. No men!"

But some terrified men, not understanding English, try to rush through the gap, forcing the gate open. The crewmen and stewards push them back, shoving and punching them.

"Get back! Get back you lot!" The steward turned to the crewmen. "Lock it!"

They struggle to get the gate closed again, while the steward brandishes a small revolver. Another steward holds a fire axe. They lock the gate, and a cry goes up among the crowd, who surge forward, pounding against the steel and shouting in several languages.

"For the love of God, man, there are children down here! Let us up, so we can have a chance!" Tommy screamed at the crewmen.

But the crewmen are scared now. They have let the situation get out of hand, and now they have a mob. Tommy gives up and pushes his way back through the crowd, going down the stairs. He rejoins Edward, Harrison and Fabrizio.

"It's hopeless that way." Tommy tells Edward.

"Well, whatever we're goin' to do, we better do it fast."

Fabrizio turns to Helga, praying he can make himself understood.

"Everyone... all of you... come with me now. We go to the boats. We go to the boats. Capito? Come now!"

They can't understand what he's saying. They can see his urgency, but Oluf Dahl, the patriarch of the family, shakes his head. He will not panic, and will not let his family go with this boy. Fabrizio turns to Helga.

"Helga... per favore... please... come with me, I am lucky. Is my destiny to go to America."

She kisses him, then steps back to be with her family. Edward lays a hand on his shoulder, his eyes saying "Let's go".

Fabrizio grabs Helga's hand and kisses it gently. "I will never forget you."

He turns to Edward, who leads the way out of the crowd. Looking back Fabrizio sees her face disappear into the crowd.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Ginny opens the safe and reaches inside. As Lovejoy watches, she pulls out two stacks of bills, still banded by bank wrappers. Then she takes out the "Heart of the Ocean", putting it in the pocket of her overcoat, and locks the safe.

Ginny turns to Lovejoy. "I make my own luck."

Lovejoy opened his waist coat revealing a .45 revolver in his waistband. "So do I."

Ginny grins, putting the money in her pocket as they go out.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

Edward, Harrison, Fabrizio and Tommy are lost, searching for a way out. They pushpast confused passengers... past a mother changing her baby's diaper on topof an upturned steamer trunk... past a woman arguing heatedly with a man inSerbo-Croatian, a wailing child next to them... past a man kneeling toconsole a woman who is just sitting on the floor, sobbing... and pastanother man with an English/Arabic dictionary, trying to figure out whatthe signs mean, while his wife and children wait patiently.Soon they come upon a narrow stairwell and they go up two decks before they are stopped by a small group pressed up against a steel gate. The steerage men are yelling at a scared steward.

"Go to the main stairwell, with everyone else. It'll all get sorted outthere."

Edward takes one look at this scene and finally just loses it.

"God damn it to Hell son of a bitch!"

He grabs one end of a bench bolted to the floor on the landing. He starts pulling on it, and Tommy and Fabrizio pitch in until the bolts shear and it breaks free. Harrison figures out what they are doing and clears a path up the stairs between the waiting people.

"Move aside!" Harrison pushes the steerage men out of the way. "Quickly, move aside!"

Edward and Tommy run up the steps with the bench and ram it into the gate with all their strength. It rips loose from its track and falls outward, narrowly missing the steward. Led by Edward, the crowd surges though.

Harrison steps up to the cowering steward. " If you have any intention of keeping your pathetic job with the White Star Line, I suggest you escort these good people to the boat deck... now." He says in his most imperious tone.

Class wins out. He nods dumbly motions form them to follow.

**HP/EC/HP/EC/HP/EC/HP**

James rows with Molly Brown, two other women and the incompetent sailors. He rests on his oars, exhausted, and looks back at the ship.

It slants down into the water, still ablaze with light. Nothing is above water forward of the bridge except for the foremast. Another rocket goes off, lighting up the entire area... there are a dozen boats moving outward from the ship.

At the boat deck rail Captain Smith is shouting to Boat 6 through a large metal megaphone.

"Come back! Come back to the ship!"

Chief Officer Wilde joins him, blowing his silver whistle.

From boat 6 the whistle comes shrilly across the water. Quartermaster Hitchins grips the rudder in fear.

"The suction will pull us right down if we don't keep going."

"We got room for lots more. I say we go back." Molly says standing up against him.

"No! It's our lives now, not theirs. And I'm in charge of this boat! Now row!"

Captain Smith, at the rail of the boat deck, lowers his megaphone slowly. "The fools."

**A/N: I would like to say thank you for staying with this story despite my irregular updates and I will update as soon as I can :) srry for any mistakes my sister gave me her stupid flu.**


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